If I Apologised
by EmeraldsAndDaggers
Summary: The happy ending doesn't last after Helena returned home. Things aren't all well in the MirrorWorld and Helena is turned away by the person she trusted most. Things are never what they seem in a place that reflects things that don't even exist. This story picks up a little before the movie ends. It is rated M for content, language, violence, and situations. In Progress.
1. Wouldn't Mean You Wanted Me to Stay

_Once again, sorry TT crowd. I know I'm a huge disappointment to you. I'm working on it._

_As for this. It started out as a three chapter character analysis of Valentine. I'm now on page 126 and still not finished._

_Safe to say, this isn't going to be three chapters._

_Rated M for violence, scary scenes, and genuinely dark material. But I'm a romantic and this will end in a happy way or I will continue to write until it does._

_I do not own the MirrorMask, their characters, settings, or anything else of value. Please don't ask again. It just makes me sad inside._

_Chapter titles are taken from the song 'If I Apologised' by Dave McKean, Neil Gaiman, and Iain Ballamy. I don't own those either._

_I hope you enjoy. Or are at least interested._

_Thanks for reading._

_~EaD_

* * *

Helena flopped onto her bed, utterly exhausted. The past three days at home had been some of the longest she'd ever had. She'd spent her first day back from the Mirrorworld at her mother's side, even though she slept most of the time. Her mother was recovering well, and Helena had gone and said all of her apologies the second day after she'd woken up. They had cried together, and Helena had realized what was the most important thing in her life wasn't where she was – the circus, the Mirrorworld, real life. It was who she was with that mattered. Now that her mother was on the mend, Helena's father had returned to the troupe to tell them the circus was back on. Her mom would have to stay behind for this first leg of the trip, but the circus would start moving again. Helena had offered to stay with her for a while. She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling and recalling the conversation she'd had with her father last night.

_"You've got other jugglers, Dad. I think one of us should stay with Mum and we both know it can't be you."_

_ "I should stay," he said. He was torn, between his love and the people who relied on him to take care of them._

_ "She'll be cross if you do. The circus would fall apart without you," Helena smiled. "I can stay."_

_ "Are you sure, Bambino?"_

_ She hugged her father, "I want to. I really do."_

Helena smiled, recalling the catastrophe of her father trying to pack for the circus circuit without her mother there to help him remember what he needed. Near the end, Nan and she were just sitting on the couch and watching the show as her father ran around like a chicken with his head cut off.

Helena smiled and shifted her head on the pillow, a hard object making her adjust her head again. She wouldn't admit that part of her motivation to stay behind was entirely selfish. She needed to be near her mum, of course. But she also had some unfinished business to take care of. The MirrorMask hidden under her pillow had reinforced the fact that it hadn't been a dream. That everything had actually happened. She had to get back, to return the Mask, to see Valentine. He hadn't been a dream, after all. Helena smiled to herself and reached under the pillow to trace the hard edges of the mask. Everything had been real.

Tonight, with Dad at the circus getting everyone packed up and ready to leave early in the morning and Mum still in hospital, it was the perfect night. Helena sat up and listened at the door. Nan had toddled off to bed about an hour ago, which meant she was probably asleep by now. Helena grabbed her backpack and slipped the MirrorMask into it. She was heading towards the door when she paused and glanced at her feet. She went back into her closet and put on proper shoes, without bunnies. She put the backpack on and slipped out of her bedroom. Helena hesitated in the hall then snuck out of the apartment, up to the roof. She'd come out through his Tower, hopefully she'd land back in it.

Helena took a breath and grabbed onto the Mask with both hands. She didn't want to entertain the thought that it wouldn't work. So she didn't hesitate. She placed her face against the glass. Everything was very cold and she couldn't breathe, but before she could panic it was over and the feeling rushed back into her body. Helena took off the mask and looked around to find herself in Valentine's Tower.

"Valentine?" she shouted, feeling a little foolish. She put the Mask into the backpack she brought and walked around the floor. There wasn't any answer, so she went to the front door.

It opened up just outside the gates of the City of Light. Helena grinned too see people returning rather than leaving and parts of the City being rebuilt after the shadows. She joined the crowd, searching for a billowing white robe.

She was heading in the general direction of the Queen of Light's castle. If she didn't find Valentine before then, she'd return the Mask to her Majesty before resuming her search. She'd gone a few blocks before realizing she was very turned around. She looked back, trying to find Valentine's Tower to give her some idea of what direction she was heading in.

The spire rose up, catching her eye a little more to the right than she would like. As she looked at it, she saw a figure pass by one of the upper windows. She must've just missed him. It was only the decision of a second to turn around and job back towards the Tower.

She'd almost reached the City limits when she saw a white robe whip around a corner. She followed it, recognizing that spikey hair anywhere. He had stopped at a booth, flipping a coin around his fingers as he looked at the food…or something like it…that lay in the buckets.

He had yet to see her, so she grinned at the chance to surprise him. She took off running, and he turned at the last second, allowing her to throw her arms around his waist. "Valentine!"

She heard the coin hit the ground as he breathed out sharply and grabbed her shoulders to pull her back and look at her, "You're here."

"Of course I'm here," she laughed. "You didn't think I'd forget you, did you?" She wished she could see his eyes; though she knew he was staring at her, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"I thought…" he shook his head.

Something felt off so she tried to fix it. "Besides, somehow this came through with me." She opened up her bag and revealed the MirrorMask. "It belongs with the White Queen."

Valentine dropped his hands off of her shoulders. "Of course. Right."

He rubbed his wrist absentmindedly and she cocked her head at him, "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem…I don't know." She forced a smile, "Did you have another fight with your Tower?"

"No."

"…what are you doing out here?" she tried.

He looked around and grabbed his coin just before a sphinx got to it. "I was shopping. You see, some people have to eat."

"I can help you carry your stuff back."

He hesitated and avoided her eyes as he straightened. "If you insist."

"I do." She smiled at him and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

"You're a stubborn, disgusting girl. You went home and you still couldn't find yourself a proper face?" he asked her.

Helena stuck out her tongue, feeling more at ease with him now. He shuddered and looked down at her feet. "At least you finally found shoes that weren't monstrous, torture devices."

She grinned, glad she took that extra second to change them

Valentine handed her a basket, "Take this, will you?"

She did and he loaded it up with round, blue things and lumpy, yellow things. They smelled like lemons and raisins, but she would bet her life they didn't take anything like them.

"What are these?" she asked him as they moved from cart to cart.

"Well, these are palimpuffs. And those yellowish ones are apostrophels."

She stared at the back of his head in disbelief as he kept going.

"Then we've got the commaquats and exclamaturnips."

"You're making these up," she told him, laughing.

"You can't expect me to know the names of everything," he said, taking a big bite of one of them.

"But you eat it without knowing what it is?" she asked him.

"I get hungry."

"You sound like a sphinx, 'Hungry, hungry'," she imitated.

He shuddered again, "Must you do that?"

"Hungry," she said again.

Valentine snatched up a small, purple, diamond shape and popped it into her mouth to keep her quiet. "Chew on that, Helena-na."

She did, and though it had the consistency of tapioca pudding, it tasted like lemon meringue. "Mmm," she managed through her mouthful.

Valentine grinned at her, "Knew something would get you to shut up."

She swallowed and asked, "So you've been well since I left?"

His grin faded and he turned back to his shopping. "Of course. I've got me Tower back. I've got money enough for food. It's a good day to be me."

She smiled though he wasn't looking at her, "Isn't it always a good day to be a very important man?"

"Yes, it is, maskless girl."

Helena grinned and bumped her hip into him. He smirked and tossed a ball that she didn't know he had. She only had one hand free because of the basket, so she grabbed it and tossed it back. He caught it and suddenly there were three balls in the air that he juggled as they walked. Helena looked in the basket and found a…a commaquat and tossed it into his loop.

"Oi!" he shouted, catching the rhythm without any difficulty at all, despite his protest.

Helena giggled and grabbed another one to throw in. Valentine stopped, catching one commaquat after another until he had ten in the air at once. He was smirking, his talent drawing spectators to crowd around him. He glanced at her and Helena dropped the basket in time to catch the commaquat he threw at her. Soon they were juggling in unison and coins were being dropped into the basket by Helena's feet.

She grinned through the juggling at Valentine. He had to be the best jugglers she'd ever met in her life. She was managing, but barely. He wasn't even breaking a sweat. He could probably handle another five, at least.

He met her eyes and smiled. And then he jerked like he'd been burnt, missing the catch.

The balls and commaquats tumbled to the ground, except for the ones Helena managed to catch. The crowd around them clapped and then moved away, a few more coins dropping into their basket before they dissipated.

"Butterfingers," she said with a smile, picking up the rest of the fruit.

Valentine was frowning, rubbing his wrist. He didn't even crack a smile at her as he gathered up the fruit and tossed it into the basket with accuracy.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, reaching out to touch his arm.

He sat back out of her reach, "I've…I've gotta head back to my Tower."

He tried to pick up the basket, but she snatched it up. "I'll help."

"You don't have to."

She shrugged, "I'd like to." If he was hurt, she wasn't going to just send him off alone.

They started back, the coins jangling at the bottom of the basket among the food Valentine had put there. They'd reached the city gates and he took the basket from her. "I've got it from here."

"Don't be silly. I came in through the Tower."

"What?" He stopped and faced her. "You did what?"

"I'm sorry. I came in through the window I left from. I didn't know if it would work, but it did."

"You were there? And you…you didn't…"

She stared at him, confused. "I came out and looked for you."

Valentine looked back at his Tower, "She let you out?"

She laughed a little, "Why would your Tower keep me from leaving? I never upset it."

"Right. That was me," he said, shaking his head and starting to walk again. "You sure you want to leave from my Tower again?"

"Of course, that's where my room was."

They reached his Tower and Valentine pushed open the door. He looked around like he hadn't seen the inside of it before. Like he was looking for something.

"Is there more than the City of Light?" Helena asked as Valentine carried the basket into what appeared to be a kitchen.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, sounded distracted as he put things away. It was odd. The commaquats went in a bowl. The exclamaturnips went into a basket that hung by a window. And the apostrophels and palimpuffs both went into cupboards, but on different shelves. It was like the fruit needed to be segregated.

"Is there more to this world than the City of Light and the Land of Shadows?"

"Sure. Everything in between. The Murky Mines, the Foggy Forest, the Clouded Castle, the Misty Mines."

"You said Mines twice."

"I might be making them up."

Helena laughed. "I'd like to see it all. When I come back next, maybe you could take me to see some of them?"

"That's not a good idea," he said.

"Why not?"

"Some of those places are really dangerous. And when I say really dangerous, I only mean wildly, definitely, everything will kill us dangerous," he said.

She grinned. "It'll be fun."

"No, it wouldn't," he retorted, shaking his head and moving the basket into a cabinet. "It'd be the opposite of fun. Opposite of mildly entertaining. Opposite of something that I would do when I was bored out of my mask, and I can promise you that I am very often that bored and still don't go to those places."

"I can't wait to see her Majesty again," Helena said, looking through some of his other cupboards. "After that, we could do another little show? Get you some more money so we can go out and do something next time I come. I want to see everything about this place. I mean…I drew this place, but I don't know it. I don't know how it works. If I were to draw you or your Tower again, but differently, would you change? Or would the drawing change? What if I added a new place, would it just shove its way in between something else? I want to learn about-"

"Maybe you should just go home," he said suddenly.

She froze, kneeling on the ground, her nose in one of the cupboards, "What?"

"Go. Home." His voice was harder and much colder than it had been two seconds ago.

Her heart clenched as she stood up, "But, I thought…I mean, we had…I thought that you…"

"What?" he asked. His face, what she could see, was blank. His arms were crossed in front of him as he watched her.

Helena swallowed, "I thought you missed me like I missed you."

He tilted his head at her. "Valentine's are perfect the way they are. They don't need another person. Especially not another Creator-child-trouble-maker person."

"Oh," she answered, feeling about two inches tall.

"It's nothing personal. Things were just better before you showed up here," he told her, looking out over his Tower.

"Of course," her voice sounded dull even to her own eras.

"You don't belong here."

She knew she was about to start crying and she didn't want him to see that. She didn't want him to see that he'd hurt her as much as he had. "Then I should get going."

"Good idea."

Helena swallowed hard against the little sob that built up in her throat. Even if he didn't care about her like she thought she did for him, she at least believed they were friends. They had juggled together just minutes ago. He'd smiled like he enjoyed having her around. She looked out the window and saw her room. The place she was supposed to belong. Valentine wasn't even looking at her as she took out the MirrorMask. "Will you return this to the Queen after I've gone?"

He sighed, "I suppose so."

"Okay. Well, goodbye, then." Helena looked at him, but Valentine didn't even glance at her.

"So long."

His apathy irked her into grabbing his arm. He winced, flinching away, though not out of her grasp. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked. "I thought we were friends."

He shrugged off her hand, "Valentines don't have friends."

"You could," she said quietly.

"If I wanted. Which, in fact, I don't."

Helena felt her anger warring with her hurt to make her voice short, "Fine. Well, I'll miss you, Valentine."

He didn't say anything, but at least this time he was looking at her.

She shook her head and put the MirrorMask on, pressing her face to the window.

He never said a word and then she was gone. She landed in her room this time, no MirrorMask on her face. Helena looked back at the pictures on her wall and mirror, seeing a spikey haired man with a stripe down his face hanging on the mirror frame. He was smirking, laughing at her. There was no way to go back now, even if she wanted. Even if she _was_ wanted. Which she wasn't, as she'd been so coldly informed. Fine. He didn't want to see her, she didn't want to see him. "Goodbye," she told the sketch.

Despite her anger and her resolve, Helena's heart hitched and she walked out of her room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Valentine stared at the place Helena disappeared. "Goodbye."

"Good riddance," a harsh voice echoed through his Tower.

He swallowed and continued to look at the window. "I did what you asked. Do what you promised."

He heard a sigh and an image appeared in the window. He assumed it was Helena's room. The girl in question was nowhere in sight. Something green and bright lay on the bed. Her see-an-enemy. Too bad it hadn't seen this. A snap of fingers and three animatronic spiders crawled out from beneath the bed, behind the dresser and from within the closet. Three metallic mercenaries. Three reasons for him to lie.

"The other part of our deal first, Val."

He bent down and picked up the MirrorMask, handing it to the Princess. "Done. Deal fulfilled. Now do it."

The spiders shuddered on the ground, shattering into pieces before disintegrating and blowing away. Valentine felt a weight lifted off his shoulders even as a hand descended on it. "Well done."

"Well, now that that's finished, I should let you get to taking over the world. I'll show you the door."

"You know, I don't think I'm quite done with you yet, Val."

He hated that nickname. "I haven't got anything else. No jewels. No masks, mirror or otherwise. I've got some fresh apostrophels in the kitchen if you'd like, but that's about it."

"Yes, but as you keep saying, you're a very important man. I could use that."

Valentine swallowed, "I'm not important. Not really. More of a nobody. Even go as far to say I'm a negative, I'm so unimportant. I-"

"Stop babbling," she ordered.

He bit his cheek to keep from going on.

"Hold out your wrist."

"I'd really rather not if it's all the-"

"Do it!" she shouted, her voice echoing around his Tower and the dark corners getting darker.

He did and tried not to flinch when she pulled up his wrist to reveal the spider that had been latched there. Lucky his robe was so thick or Helena might have seen the blood from the puncture marks made by the spider's legs. It tightened as he stared at it. The Princess grinned and ran her fingers over the spider's back. "Perfect."

"I'm not really fond of jewelry." Especially not ones designed to kill him and anyone around him if he were to have betrayed the Princess. He actively tried to avoid those.

"Quiet."

"Why do you need this on me now? She's never coming back." He hoped she didn't. Well, mostly. If she did show up, he hoped it was to rescue him. Not that he needed rescuing. Not a lot, at least. Just maybe a little this time. Turnabout and all, since he saved her first.

The Princess laughed, "Yes, you did a number on her. Did you her starting to tear up? Pathetic." She dropped his arm and his sleeve fell back down.

He tried not to think about that. Tried not to think about how it was his fault she looked like that, "So why do you need me?"

"I get bored. And you're an entertainer, aren't you?"

"I dabble in entertaining, but I've only got a few tricks really."

The Princess smirked and he looked away. He didn't like the look of that smile. He didn't like the way her face was Helena's but not. Dark, dead eyes where Helena's danced and lit up. Harsh lines where Helena's was forgiving. Cold and frozen where Helena's was warm and full of movement.

Funny how at first he had thought her maskless face was disgusting. Now, faced with a girl whose face was exactly like a mask, Valentine found himself preferring his other option.

"I think," the Princess said, her fingers tight on his shoulder, "I could teach you a few new tricks."

She held up the mask and Valentine saw her face reflected dozens of times, none of them looking any friendlier. His own face was reflected just behind hers and he thought it seemed a little darker. He swallowed and looked back to where Helena's room was fading away. He'd done what he had to. It just didn't make him feel any better.

The Princess grinned at her reflection. "Well, Val. Shall we begin?"


	2. So We Don't Say Anything

His first year in the City of Shadows was bad.

Valentine'd had bad years before this. The year of perpetual winter. The year his mother returned him to the no one he was bought from. The year he lost a fish in his Tower and couldn't remember where.

This was worse. Worser. Worst.

It had started out bad, what with Helena returning and then vanishing once more. Permanently. Because of him. That was bad. Very bad.

He hadn't thought it was possible, but it got worse after that.

She had him bring his Tower to the outskirts of the Shadow Kingdom. Then he was told to stay, like a dog. She walked out and vanished into the dark, heading towards her mother's castle with the MirrorMask in her hands.

He thought about leaving a thousand times in those two days. But every time he did, he remembered the spider on his wrist. The one that would kill him when she found out he disobeyed. The one that would kill anyone around him if he tried to find someone to help him. Valentine thought about it, but never moved.

He was scared of the Princess. He was just more scared of dying.

On the morning of the second day, Valentine was driven from his bed by the most horrible screams he'd ever heard. He went to the window and gaped to see thousands and thousands of birds circling where the Shadow Castle was.

He watched the birds circle higher and higher until, with a final, ear-pressing screech, they all exploded. Shreds of shadows wafted down, lost among the branches of the trees.

When the Princess returned that afternoon, she was flanked by her mother's guards. Only they weren't obeying her mother.

"What did you do?" Valentine asked her as she entered his Tower.

"Asserted myself," she said.

"And the Queen?" he asked, earning glares from the guards.

"She was persuaded to step down," she said, shutting the door behind her. "Take us to the castle."

The Tower did as it was ordered, both it and Valentine knowing they didn't have a choice. They stopped in the courtyard and Valentine was painfully reminded about how much he hated the black, uneven castle.

"Come on," she said, leaving the Tower. Valentine knew better than to dawdle. He rested his hand on the door jamb for a minute before stepping out. Two guards stayed at the door, effectively smothering any inklings of sneaking away.

The Princess led the way inside. Valentine, following her and flanked by guards, tried to keep track of where the front door was, but the hallways wound and twisted until he barely knew which way was up. The Princess never seemed to falter, but then again she was raised here. She led the way to a set of double doors and pushed them open to reveal the throne room.

Valentine felt the bile rise in his throat at the scene in front of him. The throne was spattered with black ichor and feathers. What remained of the Queen was lying partway on the throne and the floor, as if she'd slipped out of it. Her chest and stomach were bowed out, as if something had been expelled with enough force to rip her open. Her fingers still clutched a cup. Around her, guards lay in their armor, unmoving. Valentine stared at them, realizing that the seams of their armor had been sealed shut. Even their visors. They would have suffocated. Other people, courtiers mostly, were scattered around the room. Some of the unmoving, some of them cowering on the floor, obviously too scared to run. There were about fifty people in the room and a good thirty of them were already dead.

Valentine watch the Princess walk through the massacre, a faint smile on her face. She _enjoyed _this. He felt sick just looking at her.

The Princess smiled at the body of her mother, "Anyone for seconds?"

"You did this?" Valentine asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course." She walked over to one of the guards, nudging him with a toe.

"She was your mother."

"She was in my way. And she was weak." The Princess turned to look at him. "She could have taken this world from the Queen of Light. Instead, she concerned herself with the balance. I'm going to tip the scales."

"By murdering people?"

She tilted her head, "How else did you think world domination was going to go?"

Turning back towards the guard, the Princess leaned over his sealed visor and with a wave of her hand, unsealed it. She slid it open, revealing a discolored face and bulging blue eyes. Valentine wanted to look away in disgust, but then the Princess breathed out, a black cloud expelling from her lips to slide into the nose, eyes and mouth of the dead guard. She sat back on her heels as his body convulsed. It was like a nightmare as the guard sat up slowly. His eyes were now black and his jaw hung open. The Princess slid his visor back down and sealed it again. The guard stood up and went to what must have been his old position at the side of the throne. The Princess went to the other thirty-some-odd bodies and did the same to them, waking the dead men up to stand guard again.

She pointed at two of them, "Remove the late Queen."

They shuffled over to the throne, picking up the body with no dignity or emotion and dragging her out of the room, leaving a tarry, black smear in her wake.

"If there are any questions as to how further betrayals will be handled, ask now," the Princess said, walking up to stand on the dais where her mother reigned not twenty minutes ago.

The dead guards, the living guards, the courtiers that hadn't run or been cut down - none of them made a sound.

"I am now your Queen. Refer to me as such if you must address me." She adjusted her skirts so as to reveal the MirrorMask on her hip.

Not a whisper from anyone.

"I advise against trying to leave the Land of Shadows or contacting anyone outside of these walls," she said. "I will consider it a personal slight..."

Valentine saw one of the guards swallow nervously.

"..and will return the slight onto your family and friends." She looked around at everyone in the room. "Am I clear?"

There was a quiet murmur of assent.

"Excellent. Guards, take Val to his rooms. Remain there and make sure he doesn't go wandering. The rest of you, come with me. We'll do a sweep through the castle and hunt down anyone who would plot against my reign."

Valentine was pushed to turn around and walk out of the hall. He didn't bother trying to figure out which way they were taking him. He just wanted out of that room. None of the dead guards accompanied him, for which he was grateful.

They went up three flights of winding stairs before the guards stopped at a room. They opened the door, shoved him inside and closed it behind him. There was no sound of a lock. Valentine waited a moment and then opened it. The guards outside his door turned and stared at him.

"Just checking," Valentine said.

The guards stared at him.

He slowly shut the door and stepped away from it.

So this was his cell.

Not exactly as important as he would have liked, but it was better than other cells he'd been in. There was a tiny window, with bars so close that he couldn't fit his arm through, but allowed for some fresh air to permeate the room. A small cot was shoved into one of the corners and a chest too heavy for him to move rested against the wall. There was a pillow on the bed and blankets folded up at the end of it. The mattress looked to be mostly clean. He rubbed at the spider absently, rolling his eyes as it hissed.

Valentine sat down on the bed. So here he was. A prisoner of the Princess-turned-Queen. He was under guard here. His Tower guarded outside. Dead-but-not guards roaming the halls. The Queen murdered by her daughter. Now said daughter was on a mission to take over the entire world. Things were definitely not looking good. In fact, he could probably call this as bad as he'd even had it. He couldn't imagine things getting wors-

Someone screamed outside his door and Valentine jumped up, staring at the solid wood that separated him from the hall. They screamed again and the sound of metal came pounded down the halls in a regulated fashion.

The guards were hunting.

Valentine jumped as someone else joined the first screamer. He retreated to the window of his room and started to hum. First quietly, and then louder, trying to drown out the screaming. More and more joined in, cornered out in front of his door. He wondered if she had planned it that way. Made it so he would hear every scream as it was suddenly cut off. So that he could smell the metallic smell that kept growing stronger.

He hummed louder, finally resorting to singing whatever inane song that had popped into his head in an attempt to pretend he didn't know what was happening.

He took out his set of juggling balls, concentrating on them and the song, blocking out everything else as best he could.

"...don't let them see you're afraid," he hummed, eyes on the spheres.

It was a long time before it was quiet enough for him to go to sleep.

* * *

It was a few days after that before the Princess herself came to his room. He was just glad he'd gotten up and dressed before she opened the door. He looked over, but didn't bother to get up off his bed. She was flanked by two of the dead guards. He couldn't see any red stains in the hall beyond her, but he knew they had been there.

"Val."

"Princess."

One of his guards, a live one, corrected him, "The Queen, prisoner."

"Princess is fine," she told them. "Let's go for a walk."

"No thanks. I burn," he said.

"I'm not asking."

He swallowed and stood up. The Princess led the way out of his room. It was only when she had gotten down a flight of stairs that he realized the guards weren't with them. He glanced behind him, wondering if maybe he could get-

"You'll be lost in a second. And then I'd have to kill you," the Princess commented without looking back.

"Like you did half the castle already?" he asked. It was under his breath, but since there wasn't another living person in the halls he may as well have shouted it.

She glanced over her shoulder, "Isn't it much better this way? Now, I can trust everyone within these walls. With one exception." The Princess pushed open the door to a room.

There was a glass pane in front of them, but it didn't reveal the outside. Just another small room lined with boxes around a small platform. A door opened in the room and a courtier was shoved in, his quills shaking in terror.

"This is a dissenter," the Princess said, sounding at ease. "I've killed most of others, but I think he can be salvaged."

Valentine watched as the door was shut. The courtier wandered over to the platform, looking around. Faint music started and the courtier seemed to calm down, until his eyes drifted half closed. The boxes opened up and these...robots came out of them, brushing the courtier's quills and face, all the while singing.

"What are they doing?" he asked, trying not to sound as uncomfortable as he was.

"You could call it re-teaching him. This is the Choir. They're emptying him of the kinds of thoughts I don't want and filling him up with the things I do."

It was horrifically fascinating. When the song ended, the courtier was dressed all in black and his eyes were dark as pitch. The robots - the Choir - returned to their boxes and the music vanished as the courtier turned to face them. He looked directly at the Princess and bowed before drifting out the door.

"That's what the Queen did to Helena," Valentine thought aloud.

The Princess turned on him slowly and Valentine realized his mistakes.

She was silent for so long that he was certain she was going to have him killed. Or worse, put in that little room and unmade. He waited for the word.

"I like you, Val. I'd rather not turn you into a mindless shadow like everyone else," she said. She looked out the window. "But that doesn't mean I won't."

He swallowed, "Understood."

"Do you?"

He decided silence was his better choice.

The Princess stared at him. "Good. Go."

He walked out of the room, only to find himself face to face with the courtier he'd just watched be emptied. He led Valentine back to his room in utter silence. He thought about running again, but there were silent guards in nearly every corridor. And he'd heard the sounds of people who'd tried to run the other night. There was also the ever present threat of the spider on his wrist, and now the Choir. He didn't have a lot going for him in his life, but he really didn't want to die. The guards opened up his door and secured it behind him.

That night, he had nightmares of black eyes and singing boxes surrounding him.

* * *

He was exhausted the next morning when the Princess came into his room. She didn't waste time and began asking him about his adventure with Helena. He didn't say much.

"We talked to the Queen, found the Mask, and dragged you back. That's what happened."

"There's more to it."

"Ummmmmmm…"

The spider tightened as his 'mmm' continued longer than was proper. He winced. "No, that was it."

"Tell me the details."

"Well, we came up against sixteen…seventeen…some-teen sphinxes. They like books, did you know? And future-fruit tastes like palimpuffs and semicopples. And just a pinch of questiwis. With a dash of-"

"Enough," she hissed. "You're wasting my time. Guards."

They hoisted him up off his bed, dragged him to his feet and marched him out, following the wake of the Princess.

They led him upstairs, which was a direction he really hadn't been in. The hallways were quieter here. Not that any place was loud.

"In here," she ordered, turning into a side room.

Valentine was pushed into the room, stumbling a few paces. He looked around. It was dark, shadowed and close. He felt like he couldn't breathe. The air was too heavy and thick in his mouth. The Princess walked over to a desk and opened a drawer, taking a vial out of it and turning back to him.

She opened the vial and glanced at him, "Do you know what this is?"

"No. And I'm okay not knowing. Can't keep a secret, me."

"How about I just show you?" She tipped the vial and out poured black powder into her hand. She smiled and clenched her fist around it as she walked towards him. He hated her smile. It was fake and cold and not like a smile should be. Valentine tried to move back, but the guards held him fast. The Princess opened her palm and blew the powder into his face.

He tried not to breathe it in, but he had to breathe. It was a stupid, involuntary thing to do. Stupid lungs. He coughed, but his vision was already clouding.

"Killing me already?" he choked.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," she told him. "I just want a little chat, is all."

Valentine's eyes rolled up and though he saw the ground coming up to meet him, he never felt it.

* * *

When he woke up, he was on the floor of the dark room and his throat hurt like he hadn't shut up in hours. He coughed, his mouth feeling coated with dust.

"Get yourself a drink," a voice told him.

He looked around, sitting up slowly. The Princess sat in a chair, writing out something. He got to his feet, his head feeling musty. "What happened?"

"Well, Val. You spilled your story."

"I didn't…" he tried.

She turned in her chair, those dark eyes catching what little light there was and whisking it away. "Oh, but you did. And you've provided me with the most useful information."

He coughed again, shaking his head. "No."

"And now, I have a job for you."

"I'm not doing anything for you," Valentine choked out, spitting black phlegm onto her floor.

She wrinkled her nose at that. "You don't even know what I want you to do."

"Don't care. As my own manager, I advise myself against helping the enemy."

"Enemy? Oh, that hurts, Val." She stood up and walked over to him. "I want you to take your Tower, go to the City of Light and bring me back someone. I want-"

"No." He wasn't bringing her the Queen. Or the Prime Minister. Or anyone else she could use as leverage to take over the City. He wasn't a brave man, but he wouldn't hand over someone to a monster like-

"A Mrs. Bagwell."

He blinked. "Who?"

"Mrs. Bagwell. She gave you those lovely cakes. I want her. Bring her to me. Take your Tower to the City and bring her back to me."

Valentine frowned, "What do you want with her?"

"A chat."

He shook his head again. "No. I'm not doing that."

"Do it, Val."

"No!"

The guards he'd forgotten were there started towards him, but the Princess waved them off. "No. If he doesn't want to do it. He doesn't have to."

Valentine waited for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

"Take him back to his room."

"What?" he asked before he thought about it.

"Go back to your room. We're done for today."

As Valentine was led back to his room he thought he'd proven his point. He thought the worst was over.

He was wrong. Utterly and completely wrong. Always wrong. Just when he thought he couldn't be more wrong, he was. He knew it. But he kept thinking it wasn't possible.

Two days later, the Princess summoned him again. Back to the dark room. Her room, he'd finally realized. She barely glanced at him as he entered.

"Val. Thought about my job offer?" she asked him.

"I told you. No," he said firmly.

"I thought that would be your answer." She put down her pen and faced him, "Come with me."

She led him to a door, which led to stairs, which led up. And down. But they went up. Valentine heard the guards stop at the door, leaving him and the Princess to walk up alone. She kept them going up, until she stopped at another door. Pushing it open, a horrible noise filled the air. So much so that Valentine paused upon leaving the stairwell.

The Princes stepped out into the noise and smiled. Valentine shuddered at the smile, but stepped out all the same. He flinched as something nearly collided with him, but it flew off in another direction, grappling with a sticky black ooze on its face.

Valentine gaped at the air around this tower. It was filled with Monkeybirds, most of them already fallen victim to the black ooze that latched onto their faces. Those that hadn't been infected yet screamed and howled, trying to save their friends, escape the horror.

"You see," the Princess said, her voice coldly calm, "when you refused, I was disappointed, Val. I thought we had an understanding." Her voice was barely audible over the scream and cries around them.

He saw a group of dark Monkeybirds corner a smaller one, leaping on him and smothering his screams with shadows. "Stop this," he said.

"I didn't kill you. I offered you a job. I give you a room, food, drink, clothes. I've been merciful. But I ask you to do one little job. One little old lady. Who you didn't even like in the first place! And you reward my hospitality with rudeness and refusals."

Two free Monkeybirds flew up, out of the horrific cloud of their brothers and sisters around the tower. He thought they'd get away. Then they screamed, dragged back down by shadowy tendrils that the Princess flicked up without a thought.

"Let them go," Valentine said. His voice shook, he wasn't proud of it.

"You hurt me, Val." The Princess looked at him. "Next time I ask you to do something, I want you to do it. Without the fighting. I hate it when we fight."

"Yes, okay, I'll do it. I'll get the Baglady. Just stop it," he pleaded. There was only one Monkeybird left.

"You see, I don't think you mean it. I think you're just saying what I want to hear."

He turned on her and shouted, "I said I'd do it!" He was past the point of caring about how angry she would get.

She grinned. "Good. I think you and I finally understand each other, Val. I'm glad."

He closed his eyes as the last Monkeybird was swarmed by the others. They calmed now that all of them were infected, hovering around the tower. He hadn't been able to save any of them.

"And, Val? Just to prove how serious I really am…"

He opened his eyes, the Princess's hands raised above her head. He glanced at the Monkeybirds around them.

"No. Plea-"

She threw her hands down and the Monkeybirds went with them. He almost cried out, but he bit his cheek and stared at her instead, trying not to flinch as wet thuds echoed up from the ground below.

The Princess brushed off her hands when it finally went silent. "Just so you know, there are a lot more people in the City of Light. I'm asking for one. You bring me one, and I'll spare the rest."

"For now."

She smirked. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. Will you get me Mrs. Bagwell?"

"Yes."

"Will you refuse me again?"

Valentine didn't let his eyes waver to the ground. He knew the consequence if his answer wasn't the right one. "No."

"Good. Now get me what I want."

Valentine turned around and went back down the stairs. He hadn't been able to save the Monkeybirds. He wouldn't be able to save Mrs. Bagwell. But he could save part of the City, at least. That had to be worth something.

It wasn't hard getting into the City of Light. He was still a hero. And it took moments to find where Mrs. Bagwell lived. All he had to do then was pretend there was a wounded sphinx outside. She came out, he hustled her into his Tower. It was easy. She was old. Weak. He was young. Desperate. He pretended he couldn't hear her pleading, her begging for him to release her. He stared out his window as he brought her back to the City of Shadows. The scenery flew by him. He'd never tried jumping out of his Tower while it moved. He wondered if it would stop. He wondered if he cared.

He marched Mrs. Bagwell up to the Princess, who was waiting on the steps for him. The Monkeybirds still weren't cleaned away. Valentine tried not to look and Mrs. Bagwell didn't seem to understand what they were.

The Princess smirked as he walked up and let go of Mrs. Bagwell.

"Well done, Val. I'm proud of you," she said.

He walked past her without speaking, the guards starting to block his way.

"Let him go. He's done for now," the Princess told them over his shoulder. "Mrs. Bagwell. Pleasure to meet you. I'm the Princess of Shadows. I have a few questions for you."

Valentine went up the stairs, to his guarded cellroom. He shut the door behind him, starting to pace. He'd done what he had to do. In war there were casualties. Needs of the many. All for one and one for…no, wait, wrong thing. He pulled at his robe, his mask, his hands shaking. He couldn't stop. Couldn't hesitate to think because if he thought, he'd see the Monkeybirds. He'd see Mrs. Bagwell. He'd see Helena. No. He reached into his robe and took out a set of three juggling balls. Keep busy. Keep moving. Keep distracted. Just keep from going still. He got all three into the air for a few catches. His plan was working. He wasn't thinking. He was just juggling.

…and then one dropped.

He caught the other two, staring at the one on the ground as it rolled to bump against the wall.

Valentine backed up until he hit the stone and slid down it, the other two balls falling out of his grip and he grabbed the back of his head, tangling his fingers in his hair and pulling.

Letting his head hit his knees, Valentine stopped running and felt himself being dragged down.

A quiet chuckle made his head shoot up.

The Princess leaned against his door jamb, her arms crossed and an ugly smile on her face. She stared at him for a moment before pushing herself away from his door and walking off.

Valentine closed his eyes and his head fell back against the wall.

He had refused once.

The Monkeybirds paid the price.

He didn't refuse again.

* * *

Valentine could feel it growing. A shadow on his soul. _Her_ shadow.

He hated it and that made it grow more.

He couldn't juggle. Every time he tried, he'd drop one. So he stopped trying. He'd lie in his cell. He wouldn't get up. He'd just lie there, day after day.

And then he'd be summoned.

He'd be sent out to retrieve things. Books. A few sphinxes. A mirror. A window. He didn't know why. He didn't ask why. She never told him. He wasn't asked to bring back people, though. Not anymore. He'd do whatever dirty work needed doing and then she'd pat him on the head and let him return to his cell to be numb. To pretend to be numb. To fake it. Only to himself. No one else was fooled.

He only saw Mrs. Bagwell once. She looked at him as he passed her on the way to the Princess's room.

When he saw the black, dead eyes, he dropped his to the floor and didn't look up again until Mrs. Bagwell's unsteady footsteps faded away.

He walked into the dark room. He didn't say anything.

"Val, darling. I need you to get something for me."

He didn't ask what.

"I need a book."

He didn't ask which one.

She'd tell him.

And so it went on for a year.

And then Valentine woke up one morning and it was year two.

* * *

_I know the Princess is very dark here. But she did try to burn the entire MirrorWorld just so she could get her way. A world that included her mother. She didn't care as long as she got what she wanted. _

_I hope this doesn't disappoint._

_I'm a total romantic. But this story is an utter romance. Which means there are lots of dark parts and villains to overcome. This story will eventually have a happy ending (probably). And more Helena. But right now it's all about Valentine. And let's be honest; who doesn't love themselves a little Valentine?_

_MirrorMask doesn't belong to me. I'm just playing._

_Chapter titles belong to "If I Apologised" by Ballamy, Gaiman, and McKean._

_Thanks for reading._

_~EmeraldsAndDaggers_


	3. Wouldn't Make the Darkness Go Away

_Chapter titles belong to "If I Apologised" by Ballamy, Gaiman, and McKean. I don't own MirrorMask._

_Thanks for reading._

_~EmeraldsAndDaggers_

* * *

The next year was infinitely better and decidedly worse than the year before.

It had started off with an errand gone wrong.

So far, he'd been able to get in and out of the City of Light without any problems. No one bothered him, since he was a very important man. No one suspected him because he'd saved the kingdom. No one noticed little things and nobodies going missing. So he was free to roam. Until he wasn't.

He stepped into the Library, barely looking at the Librarian. He browsed as always, slowly working his way towards his goal. He was heading to the East Wing, the fifteenth stack to the left, the second shelf from the bottom. A blue book, with green whorls on the front. Black edged pages. Almost as thick as his hand was wide. It didn't have title, but it showed a mirror on the front. All he had to do was grab the book and leave the Library. His Tower waited outside and-

THWAK!

"Oi!" he shouted, holding his head as something flew about it. "What gives?"

He caught sight of a red binding and snatched it out of the air, his juggling reflexes not quite atrophied yet. "You little bastard of a book," Valentine muttered, staring at the cover of the _A Really Useful Book_.

"What your problem?" he asked it.

The book flapped open, pinching his fingers in the process.

_**It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways**_.

"It's not my mind that's evil it's-"

"Valentine."

He turned on his heel and came face to face with the Queen of the City of Light.

"Your Majesty," he said, bowing after only a momentary hesitation. He shoved the book into his pants pocket then tugged his sleeve over the spider. For the first time in a while he wished he still wore his robe.

"I have missed you, you've been in and out of the City faster than I can get a summons to you," she smiled at him.

It was odd, being smiled at and knowing that there wasn't a hidden motive behind the smile. She smiled at him because she felt the desire to smile.

"I'm sorry. I've been booked left and right. I'm a-"

"Very important man," she finished with a laugh. "Yes, you are."

The spider on his wrist tightened and Valentine covered it with his other hand. "Well, not as important as you, of course."

She walked over to him, "You are mistaken, Valentine. You are far more important than I am. And you're more important to far more important people."

He blinked. Did she know he worked for the Princess?

"How is Helena? I have missed her. I thought she would have returned before this."

Valentine swallowed. "So did I. But she belongs in her own world."

"I suppose. But I admit, I had thought…"

He waited, but she never finished her sentence. She shook her head with an embarrassed smile, "Ah, but they were just the thoughts of an old woman." The Queen looked at him.

The spider clenched hard around his wrist and Valentine flinched.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, concern etched on her face. She took a step nearer to him and the spider hissed. Valentine cried out as his tendons ground together, bending double and clutching his arm.

"Valentine?" she asked, touching his shoulder.

He stepped back, his sleeve slipping up and revealing the spider.

She glanced at it and then to his face, "Oh, no…"

He shoved past her and out of the Library, ignoring the calls of those behind him to come back, to stop, to surrender. He ran until he got to his Tower and then he flew far away, empty handed for the first time.

He landed outside the City of Shadow and the guards met him at his Tower door when he stepped out, the Princess nowhere in sight.

He knew that didn't bode well.

They led him up to the dark room, her room. Valentine stepped in and the doors were shut behind him.

"Val…where's my book?"

"I couldn't get it," Valentine said. "Things got complicated."

"Enlighten me."

"The Queen was there. I couldn't get it."

"You mean you let a little hitch in your plan get you all flustered that you couldn't grab the damn book and get out!" she screamed at him.

He'd been yelled at. Reprimanded. Shoved around by the guards. But for some reason, her voice got under his mask so well this time that he found himself yelling back at her.

"Well, it was either leave without the book or get caught!"

"And you just decided to abandon your task?" she snapped.

He glared at her. "Yeah. I did. And now they don't know what I was looking for, which I'm sure they would have been very interested in, don't you think?"

She bared her teeth at him, stepping around her desk to come toe to toe with him. He remembered the Monkeybirds, but he was so angry he found himself not caring. "You think you're so clever."

"I am a _very_ important man," he sneered.

"And now everyone knows you're a criminal. A very important criminal," she retorted.

He didn't let that faze him. It had only been a matter of time before someone figured out he was working for her. "If that'll be all?"

"Get out."

"My pleasure," he said, adding in a bow for emphasis.

The door slammed behind him and Valentine found a vindictive smile on his face. He managed to get under her skin. He chuckled and happened to glance in a mirror on his way back to his room, catching sight of his face, an ugly sneer on it that he never remembered wearing before. It was like the one the Princess always had on. She had twisted him so that…

_**It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways**_.

Valentine avoided his reflection from that day on.

* * *

He should have known that the Princess wouldn't let him have the last word for long. He was summoned to her rooms almost a month later. It was one of the longest periods of time he'd gone without being summoned. He half thought she'd just let him die of boredom. He wasn't so lucky. The only good thing is that he had enough time to hollow out a behind one of the flagstones of his room to hide _A Really Useful Book_. He didn't know why he was bothering to hide the hurtful bundle of lies, but he did it nonetheless. So when he was summoned, nothing was out of the ordinary.

He went into the Princess's room, stopping up short to see a mirror that was as tall as he was, and as wide as his arms spread open.

"You know, vanity isn't becoming," he said, determined to have the first word.

"Have your little jibes, Val," she retorted. "But it's a present for you."

Presents from evil shadow Princesses were never good things. "No thanks. It's not my birthday. Not that I know what my birthday is, but-"

"Take a peek," she interrupted. "You know you want to."

He wasn't tempted. But she'd only resort to force if he didn't do as she said. So he did as she ordered. He stared into the mirror, finding it vaguely familiar. There was a bright green thing on the bed that was most of the mirror's view. A girl sat on the edge of the bed, something held up to her ear that she was speaking into. He couldn't hear the words, but he saw her mouth moving. The girl moved the speaky thing to her other ear and glanced at the mirror. Valentine drew in a breath, recognizing the eyes and disgusting, wrong face.

"Helena," he breathed.

He'd barely thought about her. He hated to admit it, but he'd been more concerned about his own skin than someone he'd already gotten out of harm's way. Besides, if he thought too much about things he didn't, couldn't, wouldn't ever have, he'd just get that much more depressed. And he wasn't very pleased with being depressed. But seeing her…

It was definitely Helena. But a different Helena. An older Helena. She was taller, skinnier than she had been. Her hair was longer, hanging around her face and brushing her collar. But the smile was the same, her quick, sudden movements the same. It was her. More than a year after he sent her away and she was perfectly fine.

"That's right, Val. Your Helena. At home, and safe, just like we had agreed," the Princess said. "She has no idea why you did what you did, but she's recovering just fine, wouldn't you say?"

He didn't know where she was going with this and he didn't ask. She'd tell him. Especially if it was bad news. And if it was bad news about Helena, he needed to know.

Valentine glanced at the Princess, who seemed to be waiting for something. He turned his gaze back, watching Helena stand up after a while and put the thing she had been talking onto down. She grabbed a stretchy thing and pulled her hair up off her face. She picked up a set of juggling balls and started with easy exercises. Still, the familiar movements made Valentine's own fingers itch to juggle for the first time in a long time.

He wiped his hands on his robe, "Is there a point to this?"

"Enjoying yourself?" the Princess asked.

Valentine stared at her, "The point?"

"Ah, and here is the point," she said.

Valentine looked back at the mirror, seeing Helena had turned to the door that had opened and someone walked in.

"Oh, Val. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do," the Princess purred.

It was a man that walked into Helena's room. Boy, really. With blonde hair and blue eyes and a stupid moveable face. He watched as the man-boy shut the door behind him. Helena looked up when the door and her face lit up. She dropped her juggling and stepped into the man-boy's arms. She stretched up on her toes and the man-boy leaned down and-

Valentine blinked, well that was something he hadn't been expecting to see.

"Aww," the Princess said, "How disgustingly sweet. She's replaced you with a Val-look-alike."

He took offense to that. "That does not look anything like me."

"Why? He's too handsome? Happy? Perfect?" the Princess suggested. "Yeah, guess you're right."

Valentine glared at her, refusing to feel subpar to this boy-thing. "Are we done?"

"Of course," she smirked. "Guards, take Val and his present back to his room."

No, nonononono. He did NOT want that thing in his room. He did not want to see that- that horrible face that wasn't his, but kind of was, at all hours of the day.

He was led back to his room, trying to ignore the rattle of the mirror behind him. The Princes had insisted. They set it up in his room, taking up a giant part of his wall. The guards shut the door behind them, leaving him alone with the mirror. And Helena and the man-boy. Stupid man-boy. Ugly, stupid, man-boy. He fell onto his bed, his arms propping his head up. He kicked his robe down to the bottom of the bed. It was too…white. Too many pockets to hold things he didn't have any longer. That was the kind of robe for a man with important things and Towers and friends.

He wasn't that man anymore.

Valentine wasn't jealous. Valentine's didn't get jealous. He was concerned. He was her manager, after all. And here she was, kissing unsavory types. If he knew anyone he knew himself. And Helena could do better. Not much, but enough to matter.

Glancing over, he was relieved to see that they had stopped kissing. Right now, the boy was sitting on the bed and watching as Helena told a story that involved some very expansive gestures. He was smiling at her, obviously entertained.

Valentine watched her face. After so long with the Princess, he'd forgotten what Helena's face was really like. They were exactly the same, but Helena was so much…_more_.

She started laughing, not that he could hear it, and hopped on the bed next to the boy, leaning over him. Valentine turned onto his side, facing away from them. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

It was a lot more difficult to pretend to be okay, when he was faced with people who were even better than okay. Still, he kept lying to himself.

Just less successfully than usual.

* * *

"Val."

He looked up from his corner by the window, the only place he could sit and not see the mirror. The Princess stood at his door.

"Come with me."

"It's my day off," he told her. He didn't have those, but he said it anyway.

She crossed her arms, "I'm not sending you out. Come with me."

The guards behind her kept him from continuing the argument. He stood up and followed her, knowing there was nothing for it. He avoided looking in the mirror on his way out.

She didn't head to her room or the Choir. Instead, she led him to the Throne Room. He hadn't been there since his first day in the castle. He'd hoped to never go back again.

Valentine slowed upon entering the room. It looked like everyone in the City was in here, the ones who'd been the Choir, the guards, both alive and dead, the few courtiers who'd managed to be submissive enough not to be sent to the Choir.

"What's going on?" he asked the Princess.

She turned, stopping in the middle of the room. She gestured to a guard, who walked over and handed her three black orbs. The Princess tossed them to Valentine.

He caught them, the weight feeling unfamiliar in his hands after not practicing for so long. When he glanced up at the Princess, she smirked.

"Juggle, juggler," she ordered. She backed up to join with the rest of the crowd that had circled around him.

This wasn't going to end well.

He started with a slow circuit, a basic juggle. He felt off balance. Uneasy. He didn't like the feeling. Juggling was something he'd always felt confident with. But now he felt…wrong.

The circuit was out of balance and out of rhythm. He knew it was only a matter of time before he lost –

And there it went.

He dropped a ball. On the simplest circuit. On the most basic trick he'd learned. He missed.

It rolled away, right towards the Princess. She picked it up and looked at it. "So, Val. You're no longer a very important man. You're a hero who's now a criminal. You have a Tower that I control. Your Helena has replaced you with someone else. And you're a juggler that can't juggle." She walked up to him and handed the orb to him. "Tell me. Just exactly what are you now?"

He didn't know.

Valentine turned on his heel and left the Throne room, clutching the balls in his hand. He returned to his room, letting the guards slam the door behind him. He glanced in the mirror, seeing Helena lying on her bed and reading a book.

"This is your fault," he muttered at her. "You brought her back. You left her here."

Helena smiled at something in her book, her face softening.

Valentine returned to his corner by the window and closed his eyes. Before he fell asleep, he added, "And you trusted me."

* * *

Valentine held his breath as the City guards walked past him. He pressed back into the shadows, glad he wasn't wearing his robe. It was only by dressing darkly that he'd gotten this far. He waited until they clattered past before continuing on his way.

There was a back entrance into the Library, luckily. Otherwise he never would have been able to get in after his last fiasco. This was his first retrieval since he'd run into the Queen and the Princess had made it painfully clear that she wouldn't accept another failure.

He'd long ago discovered the drainage system that ran underneath the City. It was perfect for a less than honorable man like him. Not that he'd had to use it in recent years. He'd spent time being respectable and important, which meant he was allowed to use the front doors of buildings, rather than sneak in through the back.

So much for all that.

He could see the grate from here and he hurried across the square, lifting the iron and sliding into the hole, pulling the metal back into place. His feet up to his ankles were soon soaked through, but it was just the rain drains.

He plodded through the water, making sure to count the grates overhead. He had to get to thirty-one. At about sixteen, the _Book_ rustled in his pocket. Valentine hurried to the next bit of light that was cast down from the grate and flipped it open.

_**I shall slip unnoticed through the darkness like a dark, unnoticeable, slippy thing.**_

It sounded familiar. Valentine muttered the words under his breath before glaring at the book and snapping it shut. He'd said that to Helena, when he went and turned her into the Shadow Queen. "Completely different situations, you crooked-bound book."

Valentine shoved it back into his pocket, ignoring the faint fluttering. He looked up, "Seventeen…eighteen…"

When he reached the right one, Valentine climbed up the rungs and peered through the grate. The Library was dark. He didn't know if the Librarian actually slept or just sort of hibernated among the stacks. Either way, he was going to have to be careful.

He lifted the grate carefully, holding it up as he climbed the last few rungs. He looked around, resting the grate against the nearest shelf. It took a minute for him to catch his bearings, but once he did it was only a matter of minutes before he was in the right place. He crouched down and counted the number of stacks until he reached the fifteenth one. Second shelf from the bottom and aha, there it was.

Valentine pulled it out of the stack and glanced at the cover. Got it.

"What are you doing?"

He looked up from his position kneeling on the ground. There was a young man staring at him, his mask covering his entire face in brown paper except for his forehead, which was wrinkled in confusion.

Well.

Valentine moved the book behind his back. "Cleaning crew."

"You're not due in until next week. And usually there's a lot more of you," the man said.

"Everyone's been coming down with the Sphinx Spots. So they're sending me and a couple other people in over the next couple nights. That way we could get this whole place cleaned by the regular time."

He stared at Valentine, actually considering it. Valentine really hoped this kid was that stupid.

The man slowly started to shake his head. "No, I need to contact the Librarian…"

"You really don't," Valentine said quietly.

The man backed away, glancing over his shoulder down the hall. Valentine followed him, "Look, just pretend you didn't see this and neither one of us will get hurt."

They got out into the main aisle. Valentine knew that the grate was behind him, he started edging towards it.

The boy hesitated, looking over Valentine's shoulder and obviously seeing the grate.

"Don't," Valentine warned.

He didn't listen. He ran towards Valentine. The juggler wouldn't be able to make it to the grate. He dropped the book and grabbed the boy, twisting his arm up and shoving him into a shelf. The kid wasn't prepared. He probably wouldn't have known what to do anyway.

"Look, I don't want to hurt you, but I have to take this book."

"I am the Librarian's Assistant and I can't let you! Intruder in the Libr-!"

Valentine slapped his hand over the Assistant's mouth, "Shut up."

The boy mumbled beneath his hand.

"I don't want to do this," Valentine hissed. "But she'll kill us all if I don't. I don't want to hurt-"

The spider ripped out of his skin, making him yelp and step back from the Assistant.

The boy went rigid and then slipped down the shelf, lying on his stomach, his face staring down the hall with wide eyes. Valentine backed away, clutching his wrist. The boy jerked once, twice, and then moved slightly onto his side.

The spider crawled out from underneath him, bright red covering the metal far more than Valentine's injuries could have done. It faced Valentine then split into four tinier…things with two legs each. They each went for one of the boy's limbs and dragged his body across the floor to the grate, leaving a deep crimson smear across the stone.

Valentine only flinched when he heard the splash and thud. Once he moved that much it was second nature to try and run. Something sliced at his calf and he stumbled then tripped. Metallic feet were on his back, then wrapped around his wrist. He got to his hands and knees, glaring at his wrist.

"Welcome back, you little metallic son of a bitch," he muttered.

It only took a moment or two to wipe up the mess that remained and pick up the book that started all of it. Valentine climbed down out of the Library, replacing the grate. When he reached the water, something brushed his ankle, but he ignored it and limped back the way he came.

He kept the book under his shirt until he got to the edge of the City. He whistled for his Tower, which appeared nearly instantaneously and hopped up the few steps to the front door. "Let's go," he said, dropping the book on the table and taking a seat. He wiped his face and mask, feeling that queasy feeling growing in his stomach.

The _A Really Useful Book _in his breast pocket fluttered so hard he winced and yanked it out. "What?!" he shouted at it.

It flopped open, the words scrawled across the page. _**Knowledge is power.**_

Valentine stared at it. "I think you've had too much to drink."

It flipped in a breeze that wasn't there to another page. This one had a big arrow that pointed to the book he'd picked up for the Princess.

Valentine shook his head. "I'm not reading anything she wants."

The book flipped back to the other page, talking about power again.

"The only power I have is not being nosy enough to get killed. So, no," he told the _Book_, flipping the cover closed and keeping his hand on it. It slid away from him and opened up anyway, the words in a different hand than all the others. It wasn't uniform, but looked like handwriting.

_**You pathetic creep!**_

Valentine flinched, as if the words had been shouted aloud.

_**You useless, cake-hogging, coward!**_

"I don't have a choice. I wish I did, but I don't. And for the last time, I did not hog-"

_**We often confuse what we wish for with what is**_.

"Great, use my own words against me now. That's plagiarism, that is."

_**Books are the best weapon in the world**_.

"Shut up."

_**Knowledge is a better weapon than a sword**_.

"Stop." He tried to reach out to close it again, but the book skipped out of his reach. _**If you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles**_.

"Who even talks like that anymore?" Valentine snapped.

_**You probably hate me. I mean, I'd hate me too. Look...whatever she's done to you, I know you're still in there**_.

Valentine watched his words fade from the pages. He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm going to regret this." He pulled the book he'd stolen closer to him and flipped it open.

By the time he got to the City of Shadow he'd read through a good majority of the book. And none of it was good. He walked out of his Tower, blinking as the sun was just beginning to rise, with the book under his arm and _A Really Useful Book_ in his pocket. He handed the book to the Princess with one hand, barely even looking at her.

"Val," she called after him, actually sounding offended.

"I'm tired," he said, not stopping.

He ignored the guards, but from the fact that he wasn't tackled to the ground, he figured the Princess had called them off. He didn't stop until he reached his room. He knew where it was by now.

He shut the door behind him and sat down on his bed. Only a few seconds passed before he was up again and pacing. The book he'd read was a history of how the MirrorWorld was created. He knew some of it from when Helena had visited the first time, but this one was much more detailed. It talked about the MirrorMask in particular.

Reaching for his pocket, Valentine remembered he wasn't wearing his robe. He looked around and shuffled through the dingy white pile underneath his bed until he found what he was looking for.

He rolled one of the plastic orbs around his hand, pacing again.

The MirrorMask did more than open ways to another world. It could create things. Duplicates of other people and things.

The orb sailed through the air and Valentine caught it in his other hand.

It could let you wear the face of another person, but only if the Mask had been worn by that person before, which as far as he knew had only been Helena and the Princess.

He tossed two of them in the air, catching them as he walked over to his window.

It could open entire gates between words, not just for one person, but for a group. And if you knew what you were doing, it could do so without displacing the doppelgangers in the other world.

Valentine didn't notice when all three balls were in the air.

Most importantly, the MirrorMask could ward off the shadow powers that the Princess and her mother had. Which is probably how the Princess had managed to overthrow the Queen.

He stood at the window, his hands moving independently of his own mind as he thought. If he could get the Mask away from the Princess…

Well, that wasn't going to happen easily. He was going to have to wait and bide his time until there was an opportune moment and-

Valentine stopped, catching the juggling balls that had been arcing perfectly around him. He was talking about being some sort of double agent. If she found out, he'd be killed, just like the Librarian's Assistant. Just like the Monkeybirds.

Valentine thought about the young man, now somewhere beneath the City of Light. He thought about him and then sat down on his bed again.

He couldn't do it. Not alone. He dropped the juggling balls onto the floor again, ignoring the fluttering of _A Really Useful Book_ and laid down facing the wall.

He was just one juggler. He couldn't stop her. No one person could stop her.

* * *

Valentine stumbled, being shoved into his room.

"Stop trying to wander around," the ground ordered, slamming the door behind him.

"Stop trying to be a guard, you lazy bastard," Valentine muttered. He had tried to explore a bit of the castle, going out of his mind being cooped up and wanting to get away from the mirror. He'd been politely informed that he wasn't to do it again.

He looked up, immediately seeing the mirror. He tried to ignore it, but it took up so much of his small room. He sprawled on his bed, kicking his robe down to the bottom. He been on two more missions since the last one, and although he didn't know what to do with the information, he kept reading the books. There was more worrisome things, like if the balance of the world got too tilted in one way or the other, the stronger power would wipe out the weaker one. The whole world would be covered in shadows. If the Queen died it would all be over.

Motion out of the corner of his eye drew his attention. He looked over despite himself, seeing Helena sitting on her bed, putting things away into her backpack. Three juggling balls appeared in her hands and he sat back to watch her practice. She'd been trying new moves and Valentine found himself commenting on them, even though she couldn't hear.

She had been working on adding a spin while the balls were in the air. It took a lot of control, speed and concentration. Three things he only had when he was juggling. Until recently.

She warmed up with some easy throws and then prepared herself. He already saw it wasn't going to work.

"Not high enough," he reprimanded her.

Two balls hit the ground. She caught the third one and he saw her sigh in frustration. Still, she picked them up and start again.

"Too slow. Spin faster."

One ball hit the ground.

"Better. Just a little bit faster."

She closed her eyes and took a breath. Then she started juggling, her eyes watching them fly through the air. Valentine sat forward as she spun-

-and caught every one, continuing the arc without a break. She grinned and did it again, not missing a beat.

"Good job," he told her reflection. "Now you have to add a cape or something to make it really dramatic. Have something that spins about you. That would be perfect."

She looked into the mirror and met his eyes. Valentine froze in his seat.

Then the speaky thing on her bed glowed bright. Helena blinked and looked down at it, dropped the balls into her duffel bag and picked up the glowy thing. She flipped it open and smiled, which made Valentine roll his eyes. It was the man-boy, as usual.

The balls disappeared into it and she headed out of her room, leaving Valentine alone again. He rolled onto his side, trying to get rid of the ever-deepening hole in his chest.

* * *

Valentine glanced in the mirror, seeing Helena coming through the door. He didn't mind the mirror when it was just Helena. It felt like he had company to talk to, even if she couldn't hear him. It was only when the man-boy joined her that he started to dislike it again. But this time, Helena was talking over her shoulder and smiling as she shut the door. She leaned against it for a second, the smile fading away. She reached for the knob and locked it.

He sat up. She'd never locked her door before.

Dropping her bag, Helena walked towards her bed, holding her hand to her side. Her face was tight now, none of the smiles or carefree nature she'd just shown whoever she was talking to. She was in a lot of pain.

She pulled up the hem of her shirt and Valentine caught sight of an ugly looking bruise on her ribs. He knew that kind of bruise. She'd cracked a bone or two. What in the worlds had she been doing?

Helena pulled her top off entirely and though Valentine felt a little uncomfortable, he didn't turn away. The bruise started just a few inches below her ribs. She had to go to some sort of doctor to get it bound up, or...

Helena kicked a plastic box out from underneath her bed, bending down with a wince to grab it. She straightened and popped off the lid, grabbing a roll of brown bandages.

Quickly and with an ease that said she'd done it before, Helena wrapped the bandages around her ribs tightly. She stood up and remained still for a minute, obviously testing to see if it was tight enough.

She jumped and stared at her door. Obviously someone was knocking. She grabbed her shirt from the ground and pulled it over her head, the only indication that she was hurt was the slight wrinkle under her clothes and the tightness around her eyes. She grabbed the door and unlocked it, letting in a man that looked like the Prime Minister. He grinned at her and pulled her into a hug, not noticing the way she stiffened.

Valentine watched the Prime Minister stay and talk to Helena, who subtlety pushed the box of bandages back underneath her bed when the man had his back turned. She smiled throughout the conversation until the man bounced over to her and kissed her on the forehead. He took her shoulders and said something to her, his face serious and excited at the same time. Helena smiled and nodded.

The man left, shutting the door behind him. Helena sat back down on her bed, her face pale. She glanced towards the edge of the mirror and said something to herself before she stood again. Valentine looked away the second she put her fingers through her belt loops. He counted to 100 before looking back. He caught sight of the bandage again as she pulled her t-shirt down. What drew his eyes were her legs, also spattered with bruises both new and old. She tucked her legs under a blanket just before her door opened again.

Her mother walked in and sat on the edge of her bed. Valentine watched as Helena and her mother chatted for a bit. Just as she was getting ready to go, her mother patted her leg. Helena winced and her mother froze.

Her mother drew back the blanket, revealing the bruises. She glanced at Helena and even through the mirror, Valentine knew their voices had dropped. Helena tried to brush off the injuries, but her mother clearly wasn't buying. She examined Helena hard with her eyes, and caught the shadow of the bandages underneath. She reached for Helena's shirt, but Helena grabbed her mother's wrist and said something very quietly, glancing at the door.

Her mother stared at her and the hugged her gently. Helena's eyes tightened over her mother's shoulder, but she was smiling when her mother pulled away. They talked quietly for a little while longer before her mother left. Helena turned out the light soon after, though Valentine could still see her from the glow beneath her door and through her window. She fell asleep soon after.

It was few hours later when Helena sat straight up, her eyes flying open. Valentine, flipping through _A Really Useful Book_ out of boredom, jumped at the sudden movement.

She looked around, breathing hard and clearly just coming out of a nightmare. Her hand held her side as she bent over out of pain. Helena rested her head on her knees, hugging her ribs. Slowly she straightened and looked up at the ceiling, her breathing calming down. Valentine caught sight of a few shiny tracks on her face. She wiped those away quickly and lied back down in her bed.

He found himself staring at the mirror for a long time after that. Why would she rather cry alone and in pain rather than let her mother or father know? He wasn't really one to talk from experience about parents, but the impression that he got is that most of them took care of their children, especially when they got hurt. His mother left him to fend for himself, but she was just a horrible person. Helena's parents obviously cared.

He stared at the mirror, but Helena had turned her face away. She wasn't asleep, he could tell. She was still crying. Valentine knew what that was like. Not that Valentine's cried. But the few times he thought he might close to crying, he would have given anything to have someone who actually cared there for him. If only there was a way through the mirror then he could be there for Helena.

He shook his head and looked back at his book. She had her ugly man-boy for that. She didn't need or want him around. And he didn't want to be around. Or wanted.

"_**I lie to myself all the time. But I never believe me.**_"

Valentine sighed and shut the book, "Shut up."

* * *

Valentine looked up as Helena entered her room, the boy right behind her. She was dressed in a dress, which was an odd way for her to dress. She had paint on her face, and her hair was curled and pinned and fancy. Beneath all the frippery, he saw anger boiling to the surface. It wasn't the first time Valentine had seen them fight, but this one was different. He watched, feeling like an intruder into her life, but unable to look away. Helena turned on the boy as soon as he shut the door, her hands gesturing wildly.

The blonde boy jabbed his finger at the mirror and Valentine stepped back, he could see him? No, of course he couldn't. Don't be stupid, Valentine. But what was he pointing at?

Helena paled, looking at the mirror as well. She shook her head and grabbed his arm.

He reached out and reached for something right by the mirror, Helena pushed his arm and shouted something.

The boy's face got ugly, his mouth twisting up. He went for the mirror again and when Helena tried to stop him, he pushed her.

Valentine was on his feet, vibrating with fury. How dare he shove her! And here he was, stuck in the City of Shadows and unable to help her when she needed it the-

Helena drew back her hand, formed a fist and slammed her boyfriend – now decidedly ex – in the nose. He fell to the ground, cupping his nose and Helena stood over him, pointing at the door and making her meaning clear even through silence.

Valentine added his own gestures as the man stumbled out of the room.

"Well done, Helena-na," Valentine told her as she faced the door. "You deserve better. Now, take up those pins and let's…"

He trailed off as Helena shut the door and turned around. She was pale and shaking, and when her mouth quivered, Valentine felt something in the area of chest start to hurt. She made it to her bed and grabbed her see-an-enemy, hunching over it and burying her face in the fuzzy greenness. Valentine watched for what seemed like an eternity until she lifted her face.

Her eyes were red and there were tracks down her face that kept him from pretending he didn't know what had happened.

Helena was hurting. Over a boy. Over a stupid boy. Over a stupid boy that had hurt her and she was still crying.

She grabbed the small bag she had carried in, pulling out a red book and started tearing out pages, crumpling them up and throwing them to the ground, more tears streaming down her face. She threw the book a few moments later, yelling at it.

Then she breathed in, staring at the mess. Helena slid to the ground and gathered up every single page she had ripped out, smoothing them and putting them back in the book as best she could. She was still crying, but she clutched the book to her chest and curled up around it, her mouth mumbling things that he couldn't quite read. Helena pressed her eyes into her bedspread, hiding her face from her empty room. Eventually her fingers relaxed around her book and her breathing settled out.

Valentine made sure she was asleep before he stood up, his own muscles sore from crouching in front of the mirror for so long. If she had cried like that over someone she no longer liked, what had happened to her when Valentine had said his awful things. Even though he meant to help her, he'd had to hurt her. And he liked to think they were better friends than the man-boy. Or had been better friends.

Which meant Valentine had hurt her more.

He knew that, in a way, those years ago. But knowing he had hurt her and seeing her hurt were two wildly different things. And for all of his good intentions and reasons and excuses, he couldn't run from that.

He'd hurt his best friend. Only friend, really.

Valentine walked towards the window, needing to get some space. He didn't know why he felt more guilty for this than he did for the City he was ransacking one piece of valuable information at a time. Helena was just one girl. He was helping to destroy an entire city. She wasn't even in this mess, not really. So why did his chest hurt so much?

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Helena was one person. An unhelpful person. A poor-choice-making person. An unimportant person at this point.

It didn't help. Valentine paced now, what did she even matter? She was an ugly, maskless, little girl who had ruined everything and-

Well. Not ugly. Not really. She was pretty, he supposed, as a completely objective outside observer.

And true, she didn't have a mask and that made her different, but he kind of liked different on her. It suited her far better than a mask like the Princess's did. He liked watching her talk, even to the ugly man-boy. The way her face would move was far more revealing than any kind of changeable mask.

And little girl wasn't quite right, either. Maybe it had been right two years ago, but it had been two years and...things...had changed about Helena that made Valentine think about how old she really was. Seventeen now? He was twenty one. Not too big of an age difference. And next year she'd be eighteen and he'd be twenty two which was perfectly reasonable to be-

-friends.

Because that's what they were. Or used to be. Or had been?

And she hadn't necessarily ruined everything per say. He'd maybe had a hand in it. But he hadn't had a choice. And Helena hadn't known what kind of trouble she was in. It wasn't her fault.

Valentine walked back to the mirror, staring at the girl who still dressed up for the ruined date, a beaten up notebook in her arms. His chest still hurt and his head was whirling, but he relaxed on his bed, watching Helena sleep.

He must have dozed off, because next thing he knew, she was under the covers in her bed, the lamp by her head turned on and she was scribbling in the red book. She didn't look sad any longer and there was even a little smile on her face.

Valentine fell asleep, the ache easing a little.

He woke up the next morning, feeling a little different. He felt...taller? Cleaner? He stood up and looked at his clothes. They were the same, but just a little off. His shirt a slightly different shade of burgundy. His robe was a little longer, and the back of it was split to have tails. He liked it - a little drama never hurt anyone. Valentine looked inside his robe and found that he had more pockets than before, stuffed with things he didn't remember putting there. Juggling balls, bits of paper, toffee. Oooh, toffee. He took out a piece and continued his examination.

His shoes weren't shoes any longer, but boots that were comfortable and functional. With a dash of romance. He liked them too. But how had it happened? He'd been wearing his old clothes and shoes when he went to bed the night before.

Valentine glanced into the mirror and saw that Helena was still asleep. She was lying on her stomach, a pen lying limply in her hand. He could just barely see the top of a spikey head.

He grinned for the first time in a year. She hadn't forgotten him.

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at the sleeping, ugly, maskless girl who still managed to find time for him, even after the things he'd said to her. Who only asked him to do things that were right and wouldn't hurt others. Who forgave him when he forgot and reverted to his selfish ways. The girl who held her own against Queens and Princess and Very Important People and ugly boys who didn't deserve titles. The girl who created an entire world of people and places and still remembered him.

The girl who could juggle.

In a moment, his entire world had shifted and although he couldn't explain it, he finally had something that mattered. Something that could keep him from wallowing and vanishing into the guilt and depression that had been creeping up on him for the past two years. Something that the Princess could never touch.

He knelt down and dug beneath his bed. He fingers found a round sphere and he snagged it, grabbed the two other ones he found, too. The dark circles went into his pocket. He shoved open his door, catching one guard in the face and the other unaware. He jogged down to the Throne Room, the guard unable to catch him because of his armor. He got to the double doors of the Throne Room and shoved them open with a bang, cutting off the Princess mid sentence and drawing all eyes.

She glared at him and Valentine wondered how he had ever confused her and Helena.

"What do you want, Val?" she snapped, tapping her fingers.

He didn't answer, but he started to juggle. The simple circuit he had failed on last time. The one that he was completing flawlessly now.

Glancing between the spinning orbs, he saw the Princess' face clouding as she watched.

Valentine hid his smile and juggled one-handed to get the other three balls, the ones she had embarrassed him with the first time. Then he added those in, interspersing the colored ones with the black ones.

The Princess' eyes tightened as he continued to juggle, the spheres going higher and higher without a single hiccup. Her knuckles were white on the chair. Valentine started to wind down, catching the balls one by one and putting them into his pockets, punctuating each one with a promise in his head that he hoped the Princess could hear.

_I'm not your victim.  
_

_ And I'm not like you.  
_

_ I won't let you win.  
_

_ I'll find a way to stop you.  
_

_ Because I'm a Valentine._

He spun on the last one, knowing before it even happened that it would be perfect, his robe snapping out behind him. Valentine stopped and caught the final black orb in his hand amid the utter silence of the Throne Room. He dropped it on the ground and it rolled back to the Princess. She watched it until it hit the bottom of the dais, then looked up at Valentine.  
He met her black eyes and then bowed, never lowering his eyes.

_And I'm a very important person._

He turned and walked right up to the guard who was still out of breath, huffing and puffing at the door. Valentine walked through the double doors, letting them close behind him. He caught sight of the Princess just before the doors shut, her face pale with anger and he couldn't help it. He laughed.

It was time to start acting like a Valentine again.


	4. I Don't Suppose You'd Even Notice

Chapter title from If I Apologised.

* * *

Valentine knew Helena's schedule like the back of his hand and knew how long he could expect her to be gone based on the size of the bag that she carried out. Backpack meant school, meant eight hours. Then she'd come home and spend time in her room doing work. Duffel bag meant circus practice he gathered, usually until late at night. Both bags meant she was gone a week and she always came back exhausted, but trying out new juggling acts. He assumed that she had been traveling with her family's circus.

Valentine kept up with her practicing, trying the same moves she did or reviewing the ones he already knew. Now he was always juggling.

"Val."

He didn't even look up, concentrating on his juggling. He didn't answer, which angered the Princess more.

"Val," she snapped.

"Need something?" he asked quietly.

"A book."

He ignored her, making her shift angrily. "I need a book, Val."

"I heard you." He stopped, catching his orbs and putting them into his pocket. "What do you need all these books for?"

She stared at him. "You don't usually ask questions."

"You don't usually come to me," he pointed out. He cocked his head, "Getting lonely up in your evil tower?"

"Get me the book, Val," she ordered. She described it in detail and Valentine stored it away.

"How many more books will you need?" he asked her. "Starting your own evil library?"

The Princess smirked at him, "Don't try to be clever, Val. It's really not your area. Get it to me by morning."

He walked past her, "Always do."

Valentine thought that getting into the City would get more difficult as the years passed and he continued to plunder the Library, but nothing seemed to change. It was like they weren't even aware there was a problem.

In and out in twenty minutes, Valentine returned to his Tower with the newest book under his arm. He sat in his living room as the Tower took a rather sedate pace back to the City of Shadows. Opening the book, he started to read, doing the research that he might someday be able to use. Somehow.

The Mask could make the wearer invisible, sort of. It would reflect what was behind the wearer, making it look like they weren't there. But if they moved, there would be an outline. Could be useful.

He closed the book as it got into the history of the MirrorWorld and away from the MirrorMask. He settled the book across his lap and stared at the empty armchair across from him. Invisibility would be pretty useful. He could get the Mask and sneak out, staying invisible until he got to the City of Light. Where he'd be immediately arrested. Or killed on sight. The former wouldn't be so bad, if he got a chance to speak. The latter would be inconvenient. But at least the MirrorMask would be out of the hands of the crazy, lying, evil-

Why did he even have two armchairs?

* * *

He was lying in bed when the mirror he was watching out of the corner of his eye went dark. Valentine sat up, frowning. He heard footsteps pounding outside of his door and walked over to it, knocking.

"What's going on out there?" he shouted, trying the knob.

It opened and there was no one standing guard. He took one step out before something slammed into his chest.

He fell back against the door with a huff, automatically wrapping his arms around the figure. "What-"

Brown hair fell back from her face as she looked up. He clearly saw chocolate brown eyes.

Valentine froze, "Helena?!"

"We have to go," she told him. She grabbed his hand and led him through the halls, up towards the Princess' room.

"We have to get out," he said, pulling her back. "How are you here? Why did you come here?"

"For you." Her face was so matter-of-fact when she said that, it took a moment for the meaning of her words to sink in. "We have to go this way."

"Why?"

"Trust me, Val."

Valentine followed her, the warm fingers leading him forwards, her face calm and collected, like she saved the world every day.

But wait…

Helena led him to the Princess' room and he closed the door behind them. "What are you looking for?" he asked her.

"The Mask. We need it." She opened up drawers and cupboards, searching.

He swallowed. "It's not in there."

Helena looked up, "Then where?"

When he didn't answer, she walked over to him, taking both of his hands in hers. "Help me find it, Val."

He got his hands free, tracing them up her arms, over her shoulders and up her neck. She stared at him, still calm.

Or empty.

His fingers found the seam of the MirrorMask and he pulled it off, revealing the Princess.

"Clever," she smirked.

"Sloppy. Helena never called me Val," he snapped.

The Princess took the Mask out of his fingers. "I almost had you."

He turned around to leave, "Not nearly."

"You could pretend."

He glanced over his shoulder, "Pretend what? That you're not a murdering, manipulative witch?"

"That I'm your Helena."

He didn't know what kind of game she wanted to play, but he wasn't buying. "Pretending is for children."

She put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. "Fine, lying if you prefer. You already lie to yourself every day, Val. What's one more?"

He shrugged his shoulder and got her to remove her hand. "Not. Interested."

"I am exactly like her," the Princess said, her voice rising.

"You're nothing like her," he said, turning to face her. "And Valentines don't settle for second best."

She slapped him.

Valentine reeled. Sure, she'd hurt him, but she'd never actually raised a hand to him. She had more thoughtful, ruthless, conniving ways to do it. To resort to brute force meant…

He felt the corner of his mouth rising up in a smirk. The Princess's face darkened in fury, but he couldn't keep from smiling.

It meant that she wasn't as in control as she let everyone else believe.

"If that'll be all?" he asked her, almost bouncing on his toes.

"Get out," she hissed, turning away from him.

Valentine did so, nodding to the guards that had reappeared by the door. "Gents."

He heard glass shatter behind me, making him chuckle to himself as he headed towards his room.

The ice princess had begun to crack.

* * *

Sometimes he wondered why she didn't take his mirror to Helena away. As much as he hated her, he knew she wasn't completely stupid. She had to have made the connection between his getting the mirror and his sudden…belligerence.

Valentine thought that maybe if she took it away, she'd still be admitting to failure. That even silent and unintentional, Helena had more sway over him than the Princess, who was ever so annoyingly present.

Or perhaps she left it because it kept him more complacent in his room. He'd certainly been less tempted to leave now that he had something that mattered.

Either way, he tried not to push it too much. Especially after the latest incident with her. Next time she ordered him to her room, he went without complaint, got the description of the mirror she wanted, and proceeded with the pick-up.

It didn't mean he wasn't thinking about getting back to the mirror, though. As soon as he got back three days later, he shoved the mirror into the Princess' hands and proceeded up to his room, immediately looking at the mirror. He didn't even hear the door shut behind him.

Helena had a big box on her bedspread, but she was sitting in front of the mirror, holding her hair up off of her neck and looking at it. She'd only ever worn it down or in a ponytail. It was kind of endearing to see her trying new hairstyles. She opened up the box and smiled at whatever was in it.

She jumped and looked at her door, grabbing the box on her bed and shoving it between her bed and her wall. Then she ran and opened up her door, letting in her father. He stepped in, looking a little frantic. He grabbed Helena's hands and spoke to her earnestly.

Helena looked down at her father's hands, then back up at him and nodded, shrugging as she did so. Her father asked her something, staring at her.

She nodded, smiling but Valentine could tell it was a little forced.

Her dad left and Helena stayed sitting on her bed for another moment. Then she sighed and rubbed her face. She got up and grabbed the box she had hidden from her father. She opened it up and stared at what was inside.

Helena picked it up, revealing a silver dress. She held it up to her, looking at it in the mirror. He noticed the purple sash that tied around her waist and trailed down to the hem. It didn't have sleeves and it only reached her knees. It was different. Pretty.

She smiled slightly at her reflection, but then the smile faded. She put the dress back in the box. Then she grabbed her duffel bag and dropped it on top of the box, uncaring that it got crushed. Once the bag was packed, the pushed the box off of her bed. She grabbed her backpack and headed out the door. On the way, she paused by the small corkboard on her wall. She pinned up some pictures there, ticket stubs, pieces of things she had done or had been going to do. She grabbed one rectangle off of there and crumpled it up, throwing it past her bed to land on the box. Valentine only saw one word – Prom.

The door shut and Valentine stared after her. He hadn't seen that disappointed expression on Helena's face before. He didn't like it. She did a lot of things to make her father smile, but he always saw the face she didn't show her parents. The exhaustion, the hurt, the disappointment.

She loved them, he knew that. And they loved her. And their circus.

He wished he could make it better.

* * *

It had been a difficult week. The Princess had sent him out several times and he hadn't been able to sleep in his comfortable if sparse cell for a full night at all. He dropped off the latest retrieval – three different masks and a very particular windowpane – and went up to his cell without complaint, falling face first onto his bed with a groan. He kicked off his comfortable boots and turned onto his side, glancing in the mirror out of habit. He closed his eyes and sighed, finally ready to-

He sat up. Helena was sitting at her desk, her head in her hands. She rarely sat this close to the mirror. She wiped her eyes and looked into the mirror with a sigh.

Helena's eyes were red-rimmed and she looked pale. She picked up a pen and continued with something in front of her. She moved her empty hand in a gesture like she was talking. She glanced to the edge of the mirror, her mouth moving in a conversation. He slid off of his comfortable bed and onto the floor in front of the mirror, at eye-level with her.

"What happened, Helena-na?" he asked her, searching her face and room for clues.

A black dress was on the bed and her usually clean room had clothes strewn on the floor, like she hadn't bothered to put them away after changing. Which was not normal for her.

"Talk to me," Valentine said.

She was still talking, the pen moving in confidant, straight strokes across the paper. She glanced up into the mirror, almost having a conversation with herself. He glanced at the paper, seeing a wreath on the center of the page. The words were difficult to read through the mirror, but he caught a few. Words like _Dearly Loved_, _Missed_, and _Nan_.

Someone had died. Nan had died. Nan…? Oh, the old woman. Helena's grandmother.

Helena's mother opened the door, leaning her head in. She was dressed in black, too. She said something to Helena, her eyes red but dry. Helena nodded and her mother left.

She looked into the mirror again, her eyes listing to the side of the mirror. Her chin quivered, but she drew in a breath and calmed down. She finished her drawing and put it to the side, dropping her head into her hands again.

Shifting to the side, she grabbed her red notebook, still battered and pages torn out but tucked in. Helena flipped it open, finding a specific page. It was creased and battered. One that had obviously felt her wrath the day she punched the man-boy.

She lifted it out of the notebook and stared at it for a second. Her other finger traced the lines from her drawing. She dropped the page and put her fingers against the glass.

Valentine saw the paper and blinked. It was him.

He reached his hand up and put his palm against his side of the mirror. He could have been imagining it, but he felt like the places where her fingers met his were warmer than the others.

She smiled slightly, then dropped her hand away and picked up the dress on her bed. He looked away for one hundred counts and when he looked back, Helena was dressed and pinning back her hair. She picked up the piece of paper that held him and tucked it back into her red notebook. Then she grabbed the card she had made and headed out the door.

* * *

A month passed before the Princess sent him out again. She wanted an entire box of sphinxes and the little bastards had taken him nearly a week to gather up. By the time he had gotten back, he was exhausted. Valentine trudged upstairs to his room and fell asleep without bothering to get changed. When he woke up, the day was already halfway gone. He sat up, rubbing the back of his head with a groan. He had a headache, from either too little or too much sleep, he wasn't sure. He glanced up into the mirror, looking out the window-

-and back into the mirror.

Helena was in her room. Changing. And he was looking.

Valentine swallowed, shutting his eyes. Usually he had a hint to when she would be changing, and he would stop himself before she started and for two and a half years he didn't have an issue. Now, the issue was engrained on the back of his eyelids. Probably forever.

Not that he minded.

Wait, yes he did. Or not. He didn't know.

What he did know is that he really wanted to open his eyes. He counted to one hundred. Then two. Then to five hundred just to be safe. When he opened his eyes finally (very tentatively for a half a second before he snapped them shut again, then opened for sure when he knew Helena was gone), the room was empty.

He huffed, falling back on the bed. It was just an accident. It didn't mean anything. He didn't mean to see anything. Not that he did. She had been wearing what were technically considered clothes. Almost. Maybe.

He covered his eyes, and was immediately assaulted by images of long legs and scraps of green fabric that didn't leave anything to the imagination. A flat stomach and certain curves that had most definitely not been as pronounced the first time he met her, she had been stretching her arms above her head and more skin than he'd know what to with and-

Nope.

He stood up, forcing the image out of his head by replacing it with detailed inspections of his stone floor. He'd never noticed that crack in the masonry before. How interesting. And those lines looked like the Prime Minister's mask, and that group the giants, and that one reminded him of the curve of Helena's hip and-

Dammit.

"You are an awful, awful man, Valentine. Pull yourself together," he muttered. "She's your friend."

Sort of. He thought of her as a friend. Most of the time. When he wasn't seeing more of her than he should. And he meant _more_. But the last time they had spoken, he had broken any version of friendship.

And yet…she still thought about him. Talked to him even though she thought he couldn't hear. Even though she thought he didn't care.

He did. Very much. And she still thought he didn't. That bothered him.

* * *

Helena had taken her big bag, so he knew she'd be gone for the next week or so. He'd gotten used to it, said hello to Helena's mother as she came into her room on occasion. He'd gotten over her looking like the Queen of the City of Light. Though he certainly saw the resemblance.

A week went by. Then two. Which had happened before. When the third week hit, Valentine knew something was wrong. He could feel it. So he sat by the mirror day and night, barely sleeping in case he missed something. He waited for Helena to come back, but days ticked by and that wrong feeling spread from his stomach to his chest until he wasn't sure how he was able to keep breathing.

It was late three nights later when something finally happened. Helena's door opened and her mother entered, pale and shaking.

Valentine stopped juggling and watched her walk over to Helena's bed and sit down. She picked up the see-an-enemy and stared at it for a moment.

Tears slipped over her eyes and she bent over the toy, silent sobs racking her shoulders. Valentine stared into the mirror and hoped he was wrong. Someone else came into the room and Valentine realized it was Helena's father. But he couldn't be home. Not without Helena. Why was he there without Helena?

The woman got up when he entered the room. She was shouting at him, her face getting red splotches on her cheeks. He just stood there, not saying a word.

Helena's mother slapped him and then covered her mouth, anger giving way to tears again.

Seemingly unaware of the red mark on his face, Helena's father took the woman into his arms and the two of them stood in the room together, both of them crying.

Valentine stood alone, dragged into their grief without understanding why. But he knew it had to do with Helena.

Something bad had happened to Helena.

He moved before he even thought about it, out his door so quickly that the guards didn't think to stop him until he was already down the hall. He heard them chasing him, but he didn't turn. His robe whipped out behind him, snapping around corners and up stairs until he reached the dark room.

Valentine slammed open the door and the Princess jumped. "What do you think you're-"

"What did you do?" he spoke over her.

"I have no idea what-"

"What did you do to Helena?" Valentine shouted, ignoring the sounds of the guards coming in behind him.

She blinked and stared at him. Then her face broke into a twisted smile, "Took you long enough. And she got what was coming to her."

Staring into her dark eyes, Valentine realized that she was lying. She had no idea what'd happened. She hadn't done anything.

"Take him back to his room and actually guard him," the Princess said, flapping her hand at her guards. "Knock next time, Val."

He allowed them to lead him out and back down to his room in silence. He barely noticed when they shoved him into his room, slamming the door behind him.

He went to the mirror and knelt in front of it, but it was empty of everyone. Even the see-an-enemy was gone now. Valentine pressed his hand against the glass, pushing as if he could break the barrier.

"Where are you?"

* * *

Helena climbed out of the back of the trailer, checking the straps as she did so.

"All set, Bambino?" her father asked as she hopped out. Pingo closed the door behind her locking and securing the big top's trailer.

She nodded, brushing off the dirt on her hands. "We're good to go."

Pingo gave her a thumbs up and headed to the cab. With three hundred miles to go before their show tomorrow night, they had voted to head out straight after the show and set up before sleeping. It wasn't the first time and it worked better than trying to sleep and then set-up. They always gave themselves too much time for set-up, banking on the idea that something would need fixing.

The fleet of cars, pickups, RVs, and trailers began following Pingo out of the field. Helena and her father walked to their ride in no big hurry, as they always brought up the rear and Helena's trailer was already hooked up to the back of her father's RV. Helena let out a jaw-cracking yawn as she headed towards the passenger door.

"Why don't you go get some rest, Bambino?" her dad said.

She had to wait a few seconds for the yawn to vanish, making her reply a lot less believable. "I'm okay."

Her dad urged her to her trailer. "Go catch some rest. Another big day tomorrow."

She couldn't argue. It'd been two weeks of these tear-downs, driving, and set-ups, with only three nights of actual rest in between shows. She was exhausted. "Thanks, Dad. Love you."

He smiled and opened her door for her. "Sweet dreams."

She stepped up, making sure the door was locked and secured, taking a quick moment to ensure that the rest of her items were properly stowed. The RV started up and Helena sat on her bed, taking the time to wipe of the stage makeup and quickly brush out her hair, but not bothering with her jeans, jacket, and leotard. She even left her shoes on she was so exhausted.

When the trailer started moving, Helena let the momentum drop her back onto the bed and she curled up. Her eyes burned a little as she closed them, too dried out from lack of sleep. With the gentle swaying of the trailer and the hush of paper rattling against her wall, Helena fell asleep.

_Helena was dreaming about the tightrope. She'd been practicing up there for a few weeks now, so it wasn't the first time. This one was still different. She was near the center of the rope, her chin high and her arms outstretched. They she heard someone shout her name from the ground. Against all the rules, she looked down.  
_

_ Her mother smiled up at her, "Helena!"  
_

_ Helena grinned, "Hi, Mum!"  
_

_ Her mother's face wavered in and out of focus, to be replaced with the Queen of Light's. "Help."  
_

_ Helena took a step back, wobbling on the rope. She hadn't dreamed about the MirrorWorld in months. Years. She'd been thinking about it more just recently, but not dreaming about it.  
_

_ "Helena."  
_

_ She looked to the other side of the rope on the ground where her father and the Prime Minister fought for focus.  
_

_ "Bambino!"  
_

_ "Please come back."  
_

_ She had to look away, to adjust her footing on the highwire. She was losing focus and balance.  
_

_ "Helena-na."  
_

_ She was keeping her eyes up; not that it helped, since he was standing on the highwire platform. Helena swallowed, meeting his eyes.  
_

_ "You're still disgusting," he said, smirking. He was leaning against the support post, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. Helena ignored him.  
_

_ "They need you," he told her.  
_

_ She didn't say anything, but took the chance to look him over. He looked older and leaner, which was saying something, since he'd been pretty skinny the last time she saw him. There was something about him, though. She couldn't place it. Whatever it was, he looked different.  
_

_ Helena blinked and Valentine's mask was gone. Her extended hands clenched into fists when she realized who this was now. She kept walked forward, knowing that it was bring her closer to him, but also knowing she would fall if she just stayed there any longer.  
_

_ "Selfish brat."  
_

_ Helena kept quiet, hearing the calls for help from the ground get louder. "Help" and "Hel" started to get confused, the masks disappearing and reappearing so quickly she couldn't tell who was saying what. She frowned, staring at the support pole that was her focus point.  
_

_"Nobody will care about you as long as they think you're nuts," Andrew sneered.  
_

_ Was he twelve? Did he think that would work on her?  
_

_ "Nice bloke, that one." Mask - Valentine. "He's charming, really."  
_

_ "-your insane obsession over a place and people that doesn't even exist!" Andrew.  
_

_ "They need your help, Helena-na," Valentine said, gesturing to the ground.  
_

_ "Why?" she asked, breaking her rule and not caring. She was almost to the platform.  
_

_ The mask vanished, but before Andrew could say anything it reappeared.  
_

_ "They're in danger. Very dangerous danger. Just up your alley, if I remember correctly," he said, watching her.  
_

_ She was just a few feet away from the platform. She waited until her feet touched the wooden base, glancing up into Valentine's face. "From what?"  
_

_ "Not what," he said. Andrew's face reappeared, sneering at her, and then Valentine was back. He put his hands on her shoulders, staring at her.  
_

_ "Who, then?" she asked, reaching up to wrap one hand around his wrist.  
_

_ He smiled. "Oh. Me."  
_

_ Helena frowned, "You? Valentine, what-"  
_

_ The mask began to vanish and reappear too quickly for her to see who was who. All Helena knew is that suddenly she was pushed.  
_

_ She fell off of the platform, heading towards the ground. She forced herself to relax, seeing that the net was in place. It still hurt a little, but not nearly as much as hitting the ground would.  
_

_ Just before she reached the net, there was the sound of screeching tires and screaming metal. Helena gasped as a bright light went off and the net vanished. Pale stonework rose up to meet her and she covered her face_.

Helena hit the ground hard, but not as hard as falling from a tightrope. She winced, rolling onto her back and making sure she hadn't broken anything. Her lungs protested by throwing a coughing fit. When she could finally breathe, Helena focused on the sky above her. It seemed a little washed out. She frowned and a cloud of fish flew by.

Helena sat straight up, ignoring the spinning sensation in her head. The fish swam away from her and towards towers that rose up about a mile away from her. The ragged landscape and familiar skylines, the ones she fallen asleep to every night for eighteen years, were no illusion.

She was back in the MirrorWorld.

"Well. Shit."


	5. We Still Don't Know What We've Done

**Same copyrights as usual. Song title. Not my characters. This is a pretty good start to some of the action. :)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**EmeraldsAndDaggers**

* * *

After a few hours of walking, Helena sighed when she finally reached the gates of the City of Light. Helena looked around, but the view only deepened the pit that was starting in her stomach – the Tower wasn't anywhere in sight. The gates to the City were closed. Of course that was her luck. She knocked, not really expecting anyone to answer.

A small window opened up a few feet to the right. "The City is closed."

"Closed?" Helena asked. "How can you close a city?"

"Like this." He slammed the window shut.

Helena rolled her eyes and knocked again.

The window opened. "The City is closed."

"I heard. Could you let me in, please?"

"No. I am the City Gatekeeper and the City is closed."

"Could you open the gates and let me in?" Helena tried.

"I could-"

Finally, some good news.

"-but I won't."

Helena huffed, "Look, go to the Queen and tell her Helena is here to see her."

"Helena? Who's she?"

"I'm she."

"Funny, that's the same name as our Creator," the Gatekeeper said.

"Funny," Helena drawled. "Could you please inform her Majesty?"

"I'll tell her, but the City is-"

"Closed," she interrupted. "Yes, so I've heard."

The small window shut and she heard the sound of feet hurrying away. Helena leaned against door and yawned. She didn't feel like she'd slept much, and then she just went and walked a mile to get to a door that was closed to her. She slid down the wooden gate and leaned against it, her eyes already starting to close...

"Helena!"

She woke with a start, seeing her mother - no, the Queen kneeling next to her. A surprisingly short man stood next to the open door and from the large 'G' that took up most of his chest and pants, Helena figured this was the Gatekeeper.

"Hullo, your Majesty," Helena said, trying to get to her feet.

"My dear, you look exhausted," she said sympathetically, taking her arm to help her up.

Helena yawned, "I am. I'm sorry."

"That's quite all right. Let's get you inside and in bed." They walked through the gate and the Queen nodded at the Gatekeeper, "Well done, Gallant. Make sure to lock up again."  
Gallant nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

Helena heard the sound of heavy chains being put into place though her vision was suddenly blocked by several dozen small guardsmen. They flanked the Queen and Helena at least three guards deep, all of them on high alert. Helena couldn't see a reason for it, even though the streets were completely empty except for them. Between her dream and this, Helena had an uneasy feeling growing in her stomach.

"Your Majesty? What's going on?" Helena asked, looking for any information in the streets around them.

The Queen wasn't smiling. "Nothing we need to discuss right now, my dear. You need some rest."

Helena wanted to argue, but another yawn built up. "But, we will discuss it?"

"Absolutely," she said, putting her hand on Helena's shoulder. "I'd been hoping that you would return."

Helena smiled, but didn't say anything. That made one of them.

"How did you return?" the Queen asked. "I don't see the MirrorMask."

"I don't…I don't know how I returned." Helena looked at her hands. "I didn't draw, or use the Mask, or anything. I think I fell asleep. I had this weird dream. You were in it, and the Prime Minister, and, um..."

"I see," the Queen said quietly.

Helena took a breath, "You know something about him, don't you?"

"Now is not the time for…news."

That did not sound good.

They were led to the castle by the guards, who led them to the castle doors then stood watch outside it. The Queen waved away her servants and led Helena up to a door herself. "It's not much, but it should do."

Helena eyed the most important feature of the room – the very large bed. "It's perfect."

"Sleep well, my dear." The Queen turned to leave.

Catching sight of the deep, dark bags beneath the Queen's eyes, Helena said quietly, "Your Majesty, whatever it is, you know I'll help."

"I certainly hope so," she answered. "We'll talk once you've rested."

The Queen shut the door behind her.

Helena slipped into the bed and lay on her side. The pit in her stomach hadn't lessened any, and she didn't understand how she'd gotten here, but there was something comfortable about the MirrorWorld. She felt at home here.

She tried to remember what had happened before arriving here, but all she could recall was a vague light and the sound of metal screeching. With a huff, she rolled onto her back and clenched her eyes shut. She wouldn't think about anything else. Just get to sleep. She hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in weeks. It was very important that -

_"I'm a very important man."_

"Oh, dammit," she muttered. Grabbing her pillow, Helena wrapped it around her head, trying to drown out the inane voice in her head. It had been silent for a while, then had started randomly popping up after her break-up with Andrew. And she'd encouraged it, conversations and concerns got raised to the mirror rather than to her parents or any of her friends in the carnival. Not that any of them were fantastic conversationalists. And the few that she could talk to didn't really understand her. Not even her parents, as much as she wished they did.

Fact was, her best friend was and always will be on this side of the mirror.

She just hoped they were on the same side of this fight.

* * *

When Helena woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. A tiny girl stood by the window, her squiggly line mask covering her face from her left temple down to her right cheek.

"Hi," Helena mumbled, sitting up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep so long. Um, who are you?"

"I'm Taffy, miss," she mumbled, her voice shy.

"I'm Helena."

"Yes, I know."

Great. She got up, throwing the covers down. Taffy stepped up, "If you'd like, I can help you dress."

"No," Helena smiled, "I'm okay. Did her Majesty stop by?"

"Yes, she wished for you to join her once you had awoken."

"Great," Helena said. "So…where should I go?"

"I'll take you there as soon as you're ready."

Helena glanced in the mirror and figured it was as good as she was going to get. "Let's go."

"Miss, her Majesty also requested that you wear this while walking around." Taffy held out a mask that would cover Helena's entire face.

She took it, "Why?"

"I'm sure she'll explain. If you'll follow me?"

Helena put it on and followed Taffy down the stairs. For every one step that Helena took, it took Taffy's tiny legs five or six, so the walk took quite a long time.

No one, not the servants, the guards, nor the courtiers, gave her a second look. When Taffy led her down a hall, the Queen even had to take two looks before recognizing her.

"Oh, Helena. Good, you're here. I was hoping you'd awaken before the meeting. Thank you, Taffy."

"What meeting?" Helena asked as Taffy bowed and walked away.

The Queen hesitated until the hall was empty except for the two of them, "You did say you wanted to know what was going on here."

"I do."

"Then follow me, my dear." The Queen turned and entered a door, "You can also take off the mask if you wish. But I believe it will be safer for you if you keep it on when you're in public.

Helena followed the Queen into the small chamber, where the Prime Minister was already waiting with a few others. He stood and smiled at her and Helena felt her smile grow a little warmer. She couldn't help it - he was exactly like her father.

"Helena," the Queen said, "You remember the Prime Minister. This man here is the Judge, the head of our courts. This is Drag, my Captain of the Guard. And our Librarian." Helena nodded to each of them in turn. "You all recall Helena, our Creator."

The Queen took a seat and Helena took the last empty one between the Prime Minister and Drag. Drag wore a very serious uniform and blue hair. It was all very intimidating until she saw his violet eyes. Then it was a little unnerving as well.

"As you are all aware by now, we have increased patrols throughout the City and surrounding borders. Though there has yet to be an actual attack, I fear that it's very near," the Queen said.

"But the Shadow Queen would never begin a war with you," the Librarian said. "The worst she ever did was search for her daughter."

The Queen glanced at the table and the Prime Minister spoke up. "Drag's scouts have confirmed that the Shadow Queen is no longer in charge."

The Judge sighed, "The Princess."

"Yes. Our contacts in the City of Shadows stopped reporting a long time ago," Drag said, his voice gruff. "The few bits of unscripted information we did get mentioned a coup and the Princess wielding strange new powers."

"We've had odd break-ins over the past few years. So varied and strange that we didn't realize they were connected until Drag's second put together a report and showed us the connections," the Queen said.

"What kind of break-ins?" Helena asked.

"A few people have gone missing, Mrs. Bagwell and the Librarian's assistant, Deci," Drag said, reading from a piece of paper. "Shops have been vandalized, with the only things disappearing being the windows or mirrors. Most of the items have been books, from the library."

"Did you bring that list?" the Queen asked the Librarian.

He nodded, pulling out a piece of paper with fifteen or so titles written out. "I didn't realize for a while that they had gone missing. It's not a very popular section. And when I did notice, I thought they'd been mis-shelved, or that Deci had taken them, but when you sent the request..." He passed the list over to her.

Helena leaned over to Drag as the Queen and Prime Minister read over the list, "How are the thefts connected? They sound like all different things."

"Oh, it's not the items that linked them together. It's the fact that every night something disappeared, that damn Tower-"

"Drag," the Prime Minister interrupted. He shook his head, his mask wiggling.

Helena swallowed, already suspecting the truth. Between her last visit and her dream, she knew. "He was here every time something went missing. He's working with the Princess."

The table was quiet for a minute. Helena took that to mean she was correct.

"But," the Prime Minister said, "it's okay now. You're back and with the MirrorMask, we can defeat her easily."

Helena felt her stomach drop even further. "I don't have it. The last time I was here, I gave it to him to give to you." She looked up at the Queen. "I'm guessing he didn't."

"Why would you give something so valuable to someone like Valentine?" the Judge scoffed.

"Because I trusted him."

"He's a conman, a swindler, and a petty thief and he's got the record to prove it."

"He saved my life."

"A young man saving the life of a pretty young girl doesn't mean he's a good man," the Judge said coldly.

"It doesn't mean he's a bad one, either," Helena snapped, clenching her fists beneath the table.

"Regardless of what he did in the past," Drag said, drawing the tension away with his deep voice, "we have to face the fact that a man who knows this City backwards and upwards is now working for the enemy, who is also in possession of one of our most powerful artifacts and has the moral center of a cockroach."

"All of these books are histories," the Queen said.

Helena looked over at her, grateful to have a slight change in subject. The ache at the pit of her stomach wasn't exactly welcome.

"Yes," the Librarian said. "Our creation."

"Why?" the Prime Minister asked.

"I don't know," the Librarian said. "They're old histories that no one ever reads. I don't know what she could possibly want with them."

"How to create a new land?" the Judge suggested.

"Doubtful. She wants to rule over what's already here. Not create someplace new," Drag muttered. "Too much work."

"Perhaps she's trying to travel back to Helena's world?" the Prime Minister said.

"If she has the Mask, it would be simple. And she's done it before," the Librarian said. "She wouldn't need reference materials."

"Maybe not for the traveling," Helena said, glancing at Drag. He seemed like the most level-headed, aside from the Queen. "But maybe some reference materials for the Mask would be useful."

The Librarian tapped his mask, "Now that we know she has the Mask...yes, I believe there would be some record of it in our creations."

"That would have been helpful the first time around," Helena muttered. The corner of Drag's mouth twitched.

The Librarian's eyes tightened beneath his mask. "Indeed."

"Is there a 'How To' guide for the MirrorMask?" Helena asked.

"No, no, of course not," the Librarian said. "But...there are mentions of it in each of the creations. If she put all of it together...perhaps...?"

"Do you know what the histories say about the Mask?" the Prime Minister asked.

The Librarian flushed beneath his mask, "I didn't memorize every book in the library!"

"No one is asking you to do so," the Queen said, soothing the ruffled masks. "I will ask you to collect any of the other histories we have. Today. Before she escapes with anything else that we should know."

She looked pointedly at him when he didn't move. "Now would be best."

"Yes, your Majesty." He stood and bowed, leaving the room.

The Queen sighed and put her chin on her fingers. She closed her eyes and Helena could see the tightness around them. They were the same marks that her mom got when she was stressed. And she knew exactly how to fix it, at least temporarily.

"I'm starving. When's lunch?" Helena asked, ignored the surprised looks from the Prime Minister, the Judge, and Drag.

The Queen, however, smiled. "Right now, actually. Let's break for lunch. We'll come back with full stomachs and new ideas."

They stood and followed the Queen out of the room, Helena falling to the back and slipping her mask back over her face. She fell to the back of the group, not really feeling very hungry. Not after that.

The Princess has the Mask. The information. The assistance of someone who knew this place...backwards and upwards. Stopping at a window, Helena touched the smooth sill, staring out at the fish.

"Just what have you gotten yourself into, juggler?"

* * *

"Just look at what you've gotten yourself into, Val."

Valentine grimaced, his hands tightening on the doorframe, "Can't fault a juggler for trying." He eyed the circle of guards around him and his Tower and stepped down from the stoop.

"Why do you keep trying, Val?" the Princess asked.

"Perseverance in the face of adversity and all that," he muttered. The guards grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the door.

"It's pathetic, Val, really," she sneered, stepping in front of him and staring up at his Tower. "The Queen of the City of Light knows that I'm coming for her. I've got the Mask and the army. Your Helena is gone. There is no one else to stand up to me and you know it. So why bother delaying the inevitable?"

"Because you're a cowardly, manipulative brat?" he spoke without thinking.

The Princess spun on him, her eyes sparking, "What did you say?"

Valentine thought back on his words and laughed to himself. "Huh. Did you want me to repeat it?"

"Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired as of late, Val."

He figured it did. He just couldn't bring himself to care. Helena was gone. Three weeks without any sign of her and her parents just getting more and more depressed. He couldn't stand the mirror anymore. Even if her disappearance had nothing to do with the Princess, he was going to take it out on her.

"Well, I won't let your attitude and pathetic optimism ruin my day. Big things are about to happen, Val."

"Brilliant," he said to himself.

"And you get a front row seat to it all," she said. "Guards, let's go."

Valentine stared as she stepped into his Tower, the guards pulling him in after.

"Where are we going?" he asked her, hating to ask but doing it anyway.

The Princess stepped up to the window, her fingers clutching the sill. "We're going to start war."

* * *

Three weeks.

Helena'd been here for three weeks without any idea how she'd arrived. They were no closer to stopping the Princess. She hadn't left anything in the Library that would help them. Not a single history was left.

They'd been combing through the rest of the Library, but there was nothing so far. They were only a quarter of the way through the Library and still nothing to show for it. She sat in a corner of the library with her pile of books and feeling a migraine starting in her temples.

"Doing all right?"

Helena glanced up at Drag, who had glanced into her little alcove.

"You know me, can't get enough of this place," she smirked, rifling through the pages of her book.

Drag almost smiled. It was now a personal goal of Helena's to make him smile fully. So far she'd gotten a twitch. It was rough going.

"Are you busy?" he asked.

"Just reading until my eyes fall out, nothing I can't put off."

"This is my second," he said, waving his hand to indicate someone standing to his side. A woman who was just over half Helena's size stepped forward. She had the same shocking blue hair and bright purple eyes.

"Hi," Helena said, putting the book on her chair as she stood. "I'm Helena."

"I know," she said. "I'm Mags."

Helena glanced between the two. "Brother and sister?"

"Yes," Drag said, sounding less than pleased.

"You're his second. So you're the one who put the report together?" Helena asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Mags said.

"Not ma'am. Just Helena. Please."

"Then, yes. Helena."

"Awesome," Helena said. "Nicely done."

"Thanks. Glad someone thinks so." Mags glanced at her brother.

Though she didn't have a sibling, Helena could see what was going on here.

Drag's mouth tightened, "Not the place, second."

"Never the place, first," Mags mimicked poorly.

Helena hid her smile, "Look, guys-"

The explosion rocked the Library, sending Helena's stacks of books to the ground.

"The Princess," Drag said.

"The Queen," Mags said at the same time.

Both of them bolted from the alcove, with Helena hot on their heels. Her mask was already on her face; Helena had gotten used to used to wearing it.

The Queen wasn't in the Library, but on the steps of it. She stood in the front of a large crowd, her face calm and collected, but her shoulders tight. Helena edged up along the side of the crowd, staring at the girl that faced the Queen.

The Princess. Helena's doppelganger. The Tower stood behind her, having crushed a few buildings in order to settle in the City. That must have been the explosion.

"I'm here to arrange your surrender," the Princess said, her voice carrying.

Helena could see the Prime Minister, the Judge, and the Librarian on the steps. Unhelpfully, Helena's eyes were drawn to the crowd behind the Princess. Guards, guards, and more guards. She looked up unto the Tower, but there was no flash of white anywhere to be seen.

"And if we aren't willing to negotiate?" the Queen asked.

"Then you'll all die," the Princess said. "Slowly. Painfully."

Helena felt sick. There was no indication on the Princess' empty face, but Helena could hear the joy in her voice.

"I can kill all of your people. Is that what you want? Is that what your people want?" the Princess asked.

Glancing at the people around her, Helena saw the clenching of fists, the tightening of jaws. She also saw the fear, the sidelong glances at their neighbors, the hope that someone _else _would say the words. The despair that no one would.

"Will anyone stand up for their Queen? For the woman that asks you to die?" the Princess asked, an evil smile on her face.

Helena bit her lip, the action hidden beneath her mask, and glanced down. She caught a flash of blue at the corner of her eye.

Mags stared at her, with violet eyes that asked the words she wouldn't say.

"No one?" the Princess asked. "Then I'll accept your surrender under the following conditions. First…"

Helena took a half step forward and Mags glanced at her, "Be careful."

As she walked forward, the crowd parted in front of her. It took the Princess a moment to notice the movements. She turned, staring at Helena without recognizing her.

"And who are you, little masked girl?" the Princess sneered.

Helena didn't stop until she was in front of the Queen. She took a breath.

"I'm the one standing up to you," Helena said loudly. "And here, I'm more infamous for not wearing a mask."

She removed her mask, facing the Princess. She ignored the surprise from the crowd behind her.

"You," the shadow girl sneered.

"Me," Helena said. "And we do not surrender. Not to you."

"Then you've just single-handedly started an unnecessary and bloody war."

"No. We're standing up to a cowardly, manipulative, brat."

The Princess drew back like she'd been struck.

"And you speak for everyone?" she asked, recovering her composure.

Helena hesitated and Mags stepped up.

"Yes, she does."

The others swiftly took up Mags' cry and Helena was supported by a vehement crowd.

"You think you can win?" the Princess asked, meaning her words for Helena's ears only.

Helena responded in the same exact tone, "All I know is that you don't deserve this world."

"You will lose. But before you do, I'll make sure you realize the cost of this war," the Princess promised. "You don't even know how much you have to lose."

Helena shook her head, "You don't have to do this. If you walk away now, you can go home. You don't have to hurt people."

"Aww, Hel," the Princess said, tilting her head. "I really do. But I'll tell you what. I will give you one day to evacuate and give up the City to me. Save who you can."

Helena glared, "We won't run away from you."

The Princess laughed, "It wouldn't matter if you did."

The shadow girl turned and walked back towards the Tower, her guards leading her in. "One day. If you're smart, you'll run. If you don't, you'll die. Your choice."

"You're making a mistake," Helena said after her.

The Princess stepped up onto the stoop, standing in the doorway, "So are you. See you tomorrow, Hel." She slammed the door and the Tower lifted up.

Turning back to the Queen, Helena hoped she hadn't done what the Princess has said and made a huge mistake.

The Queen smiled at Helena, tears in her eyes. "Thank you."

Drag and Mags stared at her, until Mags laughed and Drag shrugged, "Let's go to war."

Helena swallowed on the word that choked her.

War.


End file.
